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A  DEFENCE  OF  IDEALISM 

SOME  QUESTIONS  AND  CONCLUSIONS 


£^^^ 

THE  MACMILLAN  COMPANY 

KBW  YORK  •   BOSTON  -  CHICAGO  •  DALLAS 
ATLANTA  •    SAN  FRANCISCO 

MACMILLAN  &  CO.,  Limited 

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THE  MACMILLAN  CO.  OF  CANADA,  Ltd. 

TORONTO 


A  DEFENCE  OF  IDEALISM: 

SOME  QUESTIONS  AND  CONCLUSIONS 


BY 

MAY  SINCLAIR 


^tm  fork 

THE  MACMILLAN  COMPANY 

1917 

All  rights  reserved 


95052 


Copyright,  1917, 
By  may  SINCLAIR 


Set  up  and  electrotyped.     Published,  August,  1917. 


S6 


TO 

A.  M.  A. 

A.  W. 

E.  S.-M, 


IXTRODUCTIOX 

There  is  a  certain  embarrassment  in  coming  forward  with 
an  Apology"  for  Idealistic  Monism  at  the  present  moment. 
You  cannot  be  quite  sure  whether  you  are  putting  in  an 
appearance  too  late  or  much  too  early. 

It  does  look  like  pereoual  misfortune  or  perversity  that, 
V    when  there  are  lots  of  other  philosophies  to  choose  from, 
♦,     you  should  happen  to  hit  on  the  one  that  has  just  had  a 
^v!*    tremendous  innings  and  is  now  in  process  of  being  bowled 
out.     As  long  ago  as  the  early  'nineties  Idealism  was  sup- 
posed to  be  dead  and  haunting  Oxford.     I  know  that  the 
Xew  Realists  have  said  that  it  is  now  a  fashionable  phi- 
losophy.    But  either  they  do  not  really  mean  it.  or  they 
Mil    mean  that  only  philosophies  in  their  last  decrepitude  be- 
^    come  fashionable  at  all.     They  mean  that  nineteenth  cen- 
tury Monism  is  a  pseudo-philosophy  of  the  past,  and  that 
twentieth  century  Pluralism  is  the  living  philosophy  of 
the  future. 

It  is  possible  to  agree  with  this  view  without  accepting 

I     the  programme  of  the  pluralists.     I  think  it  may  be  said 

•     that  certain  vulnerable  foiTiis  of  Idealism  are  things  of 

£     the  past ;  and  that  the  new  atomistic  Realism  is  a  thing  of 

the  future :  at  any  rate  of  the  immediate  future.     But  we 

know  of  Old  Realisms  that  died  and  decayed,  and  were 

buried,  and  of  Xew  Idealisms  that  died  and  rose  again.     In 

India  the  Sankya  philosophy  of  the  Many  fought  the  Ve- 

danta  philosophy  of  the  One.     It  can  hardly  be  said  to  have 

driven  its  opponent  from  the  field.     Pragmatic  Humanism 

and  Vitalism  are  going  from  us  in  the  flower,  you  may 

say,  of  their  youth.     And  they  were  robust  philosophies. 

M.  Bergson  even  made  Philosophy  the  vogue  in  Mayfair 

V 


vi  INTRODUCTIOlSr 

for  a  whole  season.  And  so  I  think  that  some  day  (which 
may  be  as  distant  as  you  please)  the  New  Eealism  will 
grow  old  and  die,  and  the  New  Idealism  will  be  bom 
again. 

It  will  be  born,  not  out  of  its  own  ashes,  nor  out  of  its 
own  life  only,  but  out  of  what  is  living  in  the  system  that 
for  the  time  being  has  superseded  it.  The  drastic  criti- 
cism of  their  opponents  is  what  keeps  robust  philosophies 
alive.  And,  seeing  the  great  part  that  Idealism  has  played 
in  the  past,  I  cannot  think  that  to  choose  it  (if  you  have 
any  choice  in  these  matters)  is  per^'ersity. 

It  isj  however,  a  personal  misfortune  when  your  choice 
causes  you  to  differ,  almost  with  violence,  from  those  for 
whose  accomplishment  you  have  the  profoundest  admira- 
tion. You  cannot  help  feeling  that  it  would  be  safer  to 
share  some  splendid  error  with  Samuel  Butler  and  M. 
Bergson,  or  with  William  James  and  Mr.  Bertrand 
Kussell  (if  the  uncompromising  virtue  of  Mr.  Kussell's 
logic  left  him  any  margin  for  error)  than  to  be  right  in 
disagreeing  with  any  of  them. 

In  Samuel  Butler's  case  I  feel  no  sort  of  certainty  that, 
on  the  one  point  where  I  have  differed  from  him,  I  am 
even  approximately  right.  His  theory  of  Personal  Iden- 
tity is  free  from  certain  complications  which  are  serious 
drawbacks  to  mine.  Mine,  if  tenable,  would  solve  the  one 
serious  difficulty  of  his.  It  would  also  go  far  to  support 
the  argument  for  Human  Immortality.  This,  however, 
must  tell  against  it  rather  than  for  it,  by  suggesting  an 
unscientific  parti  pris.  Pan-Psychism  has  an  irresistible 
appeal  to  the  emotions.  I  like  to  think  that  my  friend's 
baby  made  its  charming  eyelashes,  that  my  neighbour's 
hen  designed  her  white  frock  of  feathers,  and  my  cat  his 
fine  black  coat  of  fur,  themselves ;  because  they  wanted 
to;  instead  of  having  to  buy  them,  as  it  were,  at  some 
remote  ontological  bazaar.  But  emotion  doesn't  blind  me 
to  the  possibility  that  things  may  not,  after  all,  have  hap- 


IN^TRODUCTION  vii 

pened  quite  in  this  way.  And  this  is  the  only  "  appeal  " 
of  any  sort  that  Butler  does  make.  He  is  pure  from  the 
least  taint  of  what  Mr.  Bertrand  Russell,  quoting  Mr. 
Santayana,  calls  '*  maliciousness." 

As  for  Personal  Identity,  both  his  theory  and  mine  are 
open  to  the  objection  that  they  are  not  theories  of  per- 
sonal identity  at  all.  In  this  matter  I  feel  as  if  I  had 
used  Butler  (and  perhaps  abused  him)  for  my  own  pur- 
poses. He  has  given  me  an  inch  and  I  have  taken  an 
ell.  Still,  I  thiiLk  my  ell  was  very  fairly  suggested  by 
his  inch. 

Discovering  dilemmas  in  M.  Bergson's  philosophy  is  an 
enthralling  occupation  while  you  are  about  it ;  but  it  leaves 
no  solid  satisfaction  behind.  It  does  not,  as  Samuel  But- 
ler would  have  said,  give  you  "  peace  at  the  last."  When 
it  is  all  over  you  feel  as  if  it  had  not  been  quite  worth 
while.  What  do  a  few  logical  dilemmas  more  or  less 
matter  in  the  work  of  a  poet  and  a  seer  ?  I  said  just  now 
that  Vitalism  is  a  robust  philosophy.  It  is  nothing  of  the 
sort.  It  is  subtle,  exquisite,  fragile.  To  try  to  analyse 
it,  to  break  through  that  texture  of  beautiful  imagination, 
is  to  lay  violent  hands  on  a  living,  palpitating  thing  that 
endures  only  on  the  condition  that  you  do  not  handle  it. 

One  other  part,  at  any  rate,  of  what  I  have  written 
calls  for  some  apology  —  my  criticism  of  Pragmatism 
which  is  associated  with  an  honoured  name.  The  monist 
who  hates  Pragmatism  and  loves  the  pragmatist;  who, 
let  us  say,  abhors  William  James's  way  of  thinking 
and  adores  his  way  of  writing;  who,  in  the  very  moment 
of  hostility,  remains  the  thrall  of  his  charming  person- 
ality and  brilliant  genius,  that  monist  is  in  no  enviable 
case.  But  what  was  I  to  do  ?  I  believe  the  issue  between 
Pragmatism  and  Idealism  is  vital.  I  believe  in  Prag- 
matism as  a  branch,  and  a  very  important  branch  of  casu- 
istry. I  do  not  believe  in  it  as  a  philosophy.  It  is  a 
method  and  not  a  philosophy.     It  is  not  even  a  philosophic 


viii  INTKODUCTION 

method.  Pragmatism  is  one  long  argumentum  ad  ho- 
minem,  and  it  is  nothing  more. 

Now,  the  argumentum  ad  hominem  is  all  very  well  in 
its  way,  but  that  way  should  be  purely  supplementary.  It 
is  a  perfectly  fair  and  legitimate  method  when  employed 
as  an  outside  prop  to  the  clean  metaphysical  arguments  by 
which  a  clean  metaphysical  case  must  stand  or  fall.  Any- 
body may  use  it  for  all  it  is  worth,  provided  he  gives  due 
notice  and  isolates  it  to  guard  against  infection.  Mr. 
McDougall,  for  instance,  defends  Animism  with  a  long 
array  of  arguments  ad  hominem;  but  he  uses  them  under 
protest,  as  if  he  were  a  little  bit  ashamed  of  them;  and 
he  is  careful  to  keep  them  in  the  strict  quarantine  of  a 
chapter  to  themselves.  Pragmatism,  by  its  very  nature, 
knows  nothing  of  these  precautions.  It  does  not  sterilize 
its  instruments  before  it  uses  them.  It  does  not  want  to 
sterilize  them.  It  is  courageous.  It  courts  rather  than 
fears  infection.  It  must  stand  or  fall  by  its  appeal  to 
the  pragmatic  instinct,  the  business  instinct  in  men,  or 
it  would  not  be  Pragmatism. 

And  so  I  do  not  think  that  the  pragmatist  is  always 
fair  to  his  opponents.  I  do  not  mean  that  he  weakens 
their  case  by  misstatement  before  he  demolishes  it.  Far 
from  it.  You  might  say  that  the  mere  statement  of  the 
monist's  case  was  far  safer  in  William  James's  hands  than 
it  is  sometimes  in  his  own.  I  mean  that  the  pragmatic 
method,  faithfully  followed,  lands  the  pragmatist  in  mis- 
representation, not  of  his  opponent's  case,  but  of  his  op- 
ponent's attitude.  To  call  Monism  the  philosophy  of  the 
"  Thin  "  and  Pluralism  the  philosophy  of  the  ''  Thick  " 
is  fair  enough  controversial  practice.  Rationalists  may 
not  like  it,  but  they  have  brought  it  on  themselves.  But 
would  it  have  occurred  to  anybody  but  a  pragmatist  to 
preface  a  serious  course  of  lectures  on  his  subject  with  a 
classification  of  Idealistic  Monists  as  "  Tender-minded," 
and  of  Pluralists  as  "  Tough-minded  "  ?     You  might  just 


INTRODUCTION^  ix 

as  well  call  your  opponent  a  fat-head  at  once  and  have 
done  with  it.  It  is  deadly ;  it  is  damning ;  it  is  unforget- 
table. Such  epithets  stick  and  sting  to  all  eternity.  They 
keep  people  off  Monism.  They  must  have  prejudiced  Wil- 
liam James's  audience  against  it  from  the  start,  before  he 
could  get  in  any  of  his  logic. 

And  that  is  precisely  what  it  was  designed  to  do. 

What  was  that  audience  to  think  when  it  was  told  that 
the  tender-minded  are:  Rationalistic,  intellectualistic, 
idealistic,  optimistic,  religious,  free-willist,  monistic  and 
dogmatical ;  and  that  the  Tough-minded  are :  Empiricist, 
sensationalist,  materialistic,  pessimistic,  irreligious,  fatal- 
istic, pluralistic,  sceptical  ? 

Observe  how  Pragmatism  appropriates  all  the  robust 
and  heroic  virtues,  and  will  not  leave  its  opponent  one  of 
them.  Think  of  the  sheer  terrorism  of  the  performance. 
Could  you  wonder  if,  covered  with  that  six-shooter,  Profes- 
sor James's  audience  plumped  for  Pragmatism  before  it 
had  heard  a  single  argument  ?  Each  member  of  it  must 
have  registered  an  inward  vow :  "  Tough-minded  ?  I'll 
be  that!" 

But  does  the  classification  really  hold?  Are  the  vir- 
tues and  vices  justly  apportioned?  Nobody  thinks  of 
Kant  and  Hegel  as  nice  comfortable  philosophers  whose 
bosoms  they  could  lay  their  heads  on.  The  Third  Book 
of  Hegel's  Logic  is  not  exactly  an  Education  senti- 
mentale.  And  the  Triple  Dialectic  is  not  regarded  by  any- 
body except  pragmatists  as  suitable  reading  for  the  men- 
tally deficient.  Kant's  Pragmatism  (of  which,  of  course,  I 
shall  be  reminded)  was  an  after-thought;  which  doesn't 
prevent  pluralists  from  using  him  as  a  whipping-post  when 
they  want  to.  The  author  of  Die  Welt  als  Wille  wid 
Vorstellung  was  not  precisely  one's  idea  of  an  optimist. 
There  are  passages  in  Dr.  McTaggart's  Studies  in  Hege- 
lian Cosmology  from  which  you  gather  that  he  is  not  in- 
accessible to  human  tenderness ;  but,  with  a  toughness  that 


X  INTRODUCTION 

no  pragmatist  has  ever  equalled,  he  denies  his  Absolute 
to  be  a  "  person."  He  has  stripped  it  bare  of  everything 
that  is  comfortable  and  nice.  If  it  comes  to  that,  what 
about  the  Pragmatic-Humanist's  God  who  is  so  tender- 
minded  that  he  cannot  be  held  responsible  for  pain  and 
evil,  and  collapses  under  the  sheer  emotional  strain  of  his 
own  universe  ?  The  God  of  Pantheism  may  have  his 
brutal  moments  and  his  moments  of  unbending,  but  his 
worst  enemies  can't  say  he  isn't  robust.  And  there  is  no 
tenderness  at  all  about  Mr.  Bradley's  Princples  of 
Logic.  As  for  the  Mr.  Bradley  of  Appearance  and 
Reality,  if  he  has  a  fault,  it  is  that,  in  the  interests  of 
his  Absolute,  he  carries  hard-headed,  hard-hearted,  thor- 
ough-paced scepticism  to  excess.  By  no  possible  manipu- 
lation of  phrases  can  you  make  it  appear  that  Mr.  Bradley 
is  even  soft  in  places.  He  is,  in  fact,  a  "  tough  "  whom 
one  would  have  thought  few  pragmatists  would  care  to 
meet  on  a  dark  night.  Mr.  Bertrand  Eussell  is  about  the 
only  living  philosopher  who  can  stand  up  to  him.  And 
we  have  heard  before  now  of  dogmatic  Eealism. 

And  after  all,  is  it  so  very  certain  that  logical  ideas 
are  tender  and  that  facts  are  hard  ?  Can  you  find  a  fact 
that's  harder,  more  irreducible,  than  the  principle  of  con- 
tradiction, or  than  any  axiom  of  pure  mathematics  ?  Facts 
have  a  notorious  habit  of  elusiveness  and  liquescence.  As 
for  thinness,  is  there  anything  more  tenuous  than  matter, 
apart  from  our  sensations  of  so-called  material  qualities? 
Matter  of  which  William  James  says  that  it  is  "  indeed 
infinitely  and  incredibly  refined."  The  physicist  is  he 
who  deals  in  phantasms  of  thought,  invisible,  impalpable, 
compared  with  which  even  Dr.  McTaggart's  Absolute  is 
a  perfect  Falstaff. 

It  looks  as  if  the  only  things  that  stand  firm  in  this 
universe  are  Ideas.  Truth,  Goodness,  Beauty:  there  is 
not  a  "  fact "  that  bears  their  imprint  and  their  image 


INTRODUCTION"  xi 

for  long  together;  yet  they,  eternal  and  immutable,  re- 
main. 

The  backbone  of  Philosophy  is  Logic.  Pragmatism 
has  no  logic;  it  is  spineless.  Idealism  may  have  too 
much  logic;  it  may  be  too  rigid.  But  this,  surely,  is  a 
fault  on  the  side  of  hardness  rather  than  of  softness.  At 
any  rate,  the  method  of  Philosophy  should  be  purely  logi- 
cal. The  idealist  does  claim  purity  for  his  method;  and 
with  some  reason.  The  method  of  the  pragmatist  is  con- 
taminated with  its  genial  contacts,  its  joyous  commerce 
with  the  metaphysically  irrelevant. 

Pragmatism  is  an  unsterilized  Philosophy. 

I  do  not  say  it  has  not  done  good  service  in  criticism; 
that  it  has  not  reminded  us  of  the  existence  of  things  that 
idealistic  philosophers  forget.  But  if  it  were  passionately 
adopted,  consistently  held,  and  carried  to  its  logical  con- 
clusions, the  eternal  ideas  of  Truth,  Goodness  and  Beauty 
would  lose  their  meaning  and  we  our  belief  in  them. 
Luckily,  people  are  seldom  logical,  and  consistent,  and 
passionate  in  their  adoption  even  of  wrong  methods  in 
Philosophy. 

It  is  painful  to  differ  from  M.  Bergson  and  from  William 
James;  but  it  is  dangerous  to  differ  from  Mr.  Bertrand 
Eussell.  If  there  is  dismay  just  at  present  in  the 
ranks  of  Idealistic  Monism,  it  must  be  mainly  owing  to 
his  formidable  methods  of  attack.  I  hope  there  is  dis- 
may. I  should  be  very  sorry  for  the  idealistic  monist  who 
did  not  feel  it.  His  complacency  would  do  more  credit  to 
his  heart  than  to  his  head.  Humanism,  Pragmatism  and 
Vitalism  have  all  "  gone  for "  him ;  but,  barring  the 
shrewd  thrusts  of  William  James,  they  have  "  gone  "  with 
no  particular  "  flair  "  for  his  special  vulnerability.  And 
when  touched  he  could  always  point  to  some  wider  chink 
in  his  opponent's  armour.  The  assaults  of  Vitalism,  at 
any  rate,  left  his  position  practically  intact.     But  the 


xii  INTRODUCTIO]N" 

Realistic  Pluralism  of  Mr.  Bertrand  Russell,  of  Mr. 
Whitehead,  of  Mr.  Alexander  and  the  New  Realists  is  a 
very  different  thing. 

For  the  logical  structure  of  Vitalism  is  faulty,  though 
you  feel  instinctively  that  M.  Bergson  ^'  has  vision,"  and 
that  his  vision  is  right.  With  Atomistic  Logic  it  is  the 
other  way  about.  Its  structure  is  almost  flawless ;  though 
you  may  feel  instinctively  that  its  vision  is,  not  wrong,  but 
simply  not  there.  I  do  not  think  that  even  an  atomistic 
logician  would  go  so  far  as  to  maintain  that  instinctive 
feelings  and  algebraic  logic  have  nothing  to  do  with  each 
other,  since  feelings  can  be  subjects  of  propositions.  But 
he  would  say,  and  he  would  be  perfectly  justified  in  say- 
ing, that,  if  intellectual  truth  is  your  objective,  you  must 
get  your  logic  right  first  and  settle  it  with  your  instincts 
and  your  feelings  afterwards  as  best  you  may. 

Now  Atomistic  Realism  gives  no  support  to  the  "  Belief 
in  the  Beyond  "  and  very  little  encouragement,  if  any,  to 
the  "  Hope  of  the  Hereafter."  And  in  this  world  there  is 
an  enormous  nimiber  of  people  (probably  the  majority 
of  the  human  race)  whose  instincts  and  feelings  are  pas- 
sionately opposed  to  any  theory  which  would  deprive  them 
of  the  Belief  in  the  Beyond  and  of  the  Hope  of  the 
Hereafter.  Many  of  them  who  would  surrender  the  belief 
with  composure  still  cling  to  the  hope ;  many  would  give 
up  the  hope  if  only  they  could  be  sure  of  the  belief. 
Others  again,  like  William  James,  are  quite  genuinely 
indifferent  to  the  event.  The  idea  of  life  after  death  is 
even  slightly  disagreeable  to  them.  Personally  I  do  not 
share  either  the  indifference  or  the  repugnance. 

But  those  who  do  not  desire  personal  immortality  for 
themselves  may  desire  it  for  others  who  are  dearer  to 
them  than  themselves.  They  cannot  face  with  equanimity 
or  indifference  the  thought  of  the  everlasting  extinction 
of  these  lives.  And  many  of  them  care  for  intellectual 
truth  as  passionately  as  they  care  for  their  hope  and  their 


INTRODUCTIOIT  xiii 

belief.  And  between  these  two  passions  the  new  Phi- 
losophy draws  a  hard  and  fast  line.  It  says :  "  If  you  are 
out  for  truth  you  must  play  truth's  game.  Your  feelings 
and  your  instincts  must  take  their  chance.  They  must 
not  be  allowed  to  load  the  dice." 

That  is  the  gist  of  Mr.  EusselFs  austere  and  beautiful 
charge  to  the  students  of  Philosophy ;  as  it  was  Plato's ; 
to  "  follow  the  Argument  wherever  it  may  lead " ;  to 
wait  patiently  when  it  "  puts  on  a  veil."  There  are  pas- 
sions and  passions ;  and  it  is  to  the  passion  for  intellectual 
truth,  fiery  and  clean  and  strong,  that  he  makes  his  ir- 
resistible appeal. 

There  are  still  a  great  many  people  who  think  that  the 
Belief  and  the  Hope  are  more  compatible  with  some  form 
of  ''  Idealistic  Monism  "  than  with  "  Realistic  Pluralism." 
They  think  that  if  Atomism  is  pushed  to  its  logical  conclu- 
sion there  will  be  very  little  chance  for  God  and  Im- 
mortality. And  I  gather  that  Realistic  Pluralists  think  so 
too. 

Is  Realistic  Pluralism  really  tnie? 

If  it  is,  every  hope  and  every  belief  that  is  incompatible 
with  it  must  be  given  up. 

But  if  it  is  not  true,  if  it  is  even  doubtful,  it  would  be, 
to  say  the  least  of  it,  a  pity  that  anybody  should  be  lured 
from  his  belief  and  hope  by  its  intellectual  fascination. 
I  have  tried  to  disentangle  what  is  true  in  it  from  what 
I  believe  is  merely  fascinating.  I  have  tried  to  disen- 
tangle what  is  untrue  in  Idealism  from  what  I  believe  to 
be  sound  and  enduring.  Above  all,  I  have  tried  to  dis- 
entangle in  my  own  conclusions  what  is  reasonable  sup- 
position from  what  is  manifestly  pure  conjecture.  I  have 
tried  to  state  my  adversary's  case  to  the  best  advantage 
for  him.  If  I  have  failed  in  this,  it  will  have  been  through 
misunderstanding,  and  not,  I  hope,  through  "  malicious- 
ness." Some  misunderstanding  may  have  been  inevitable 
in  dealing  with  the  purely  mathematical  side  of  Mr.  Rus- 


xiv  INTKODUCTIOIT 

sell's  argument ;  since  mathematics  are,  for  me,  a  difficult 
and  unfamiliar  country.  It  is  here  that  I  have  every  ex- 
pectation of  being  worsted. 

In  all  this  it  has  been  hard  to  free  myself  from  the  fas- 
cination of  Pluralism.  When  exercised  by  Mr.  Kussell 
it  is  so  great  that  almost  he  persuades  me  to  be  a  Pluralist. 
If  I  have  not  surrendered  it  is  for  reasons  which  I  have 
tried  to  make  clear. 

There  is  one  side  of  the  !N"ew  Eealism  which  is  not  di- 
rectly touched  in  these  essays  —  its  Ethics.  This  ground 
is  covered  by  what  has  been  said  about  its  theory  of  con- 
cepts or  "  universals  " ;  the  "  Platonic  Ideas."  But  I  be- 
lieve that  Ethics  owe  a  greater  debt  to  the  New  Eealism 
than  to  any  philosophy  that  has  been  its  forerunner  in 
modem  time.  If  "  Goodness  "  and  "  Justice  "  are  not 
eternal  realities,  irreducible  and  absolute,  "  moral  sanc- 
tion "  is  a  contradiction  in  terms ;  there  will  be  no  ethical 
meaning  and  no  content  that  distinguishes  "  goodness " 
from  "  usefulness  "  or  "  pleasantness,"  or  "  justice  "  from 
"  expediency."  The  work  of  Mr.  G.  E.  Moore  is  a  per- 
fect exposure  of  the  fallacies  and  sophistries  of  Hedon- 
ism, Utilitarianism,  Pragmatism  and  Evolutionary  Ethics. 
The  clearest  and  strongest  statement  of  the  case  for  "  Ab- 
solute "  Ethics  is  to  be  found  in  his  Principia  Ethica, 
and  in  Mr.  Bertrand  Russell's  Philosophic  Essays. 

The  reader  must  judge  whether  Absolute  Ethics  and 
the  moral  sanction  are  securer  on  a  basis  of  Spiritual 
Monism  or  on  the  Pluralistic  theory  of  "  outside  "  real- 
ities. They  will  remember  that  a  purely  external  sanc- 
tion is  no  sanction  at  all.  The  metaphysical  basis  is 
crucial  in  the  ethical  question. 

It  may  be  that  it  is  too  late  to  reconstruct  what  Realism 
is  destroying.  It  is  certainly  too  early  to  forecast  the 
lines  on  which  reconstruction  will  proceed;  and  it  would 


INTRODUCTION  xv 

take  a  very  considerable  metaphysical  genius  to  do  it. 
These  essays,  therefore,  only  suggest  the  possibility  of  the 
New  Idealism. 

No  doubt  many  people  will  find  that  my  "  Questions  " 
are  out  of  all  proportion  to  my  "  Conclusions,"  and  that 
the  Conclusions  themselves  are  too  inconclusive.  To  these 
I  cannot  give  any  answer  that  would  satisfy  them.  Others 
will  object  that  my  Conclusions  are  out  of  all  proportion 
to  their  grounds,  and  that  far  too  much  has  been  taken 
for  granted.  They  will  protest  against  the  appearance  of 
an  essay  on  "  Mysticism  "  in  a  volume  professing  to  deal 
seriously  with  serious  problems.  They  may  even  look  on 
its  inclusion  as  an  outrageous  loading  of  the  dice. 

To  them  I  can  only  reply  that  that  is  why  I  have  given 
to  Mysticism  a  place  apart.  I  agree  that  mystical  meta- 
physics are  an  abomination.  But  metaphysical  mysticism 
is  another  matter.  I  would  remind  my  readers  that  some 
psychological  questions  were  part  of  the  programme  too; 
that  mysticism  is  of  immense  interest  and  importance  in 
Psychology;  and  that  I  have  criticized  certain  aspects  of 
it  as  severely  as  its  bitterest  opponents  could  desire.  I  am 
as  much  repelled  by  the  sensuous  variety  of  mysticism  as 
I  am  attracted  by  its  austere  and  metaphysical  form.  I 
am  as  convinced  as  any  alienist  that  its  more  abhorrent 
psychological  extravagances  are  the  hysterical  resurgence 
of  natural  longings  most  unspiritually  suppressed.  These 
exponents  are  worthy  only  of  the  pity  we  give  to  things 
suffering  and  diseased. 

But  there  is  another  side  even  to  what  may  be  called  the 
Saints'  Tragedy.  There  is  a  passion  and  a  strain  and  a 
disturbance  of  the  soul,  bom  of  its  struggle  between  re- 
ligious dualism  and  its  unconscious  longing  for  the  Ab- 
solute. 

And  there  is  also  a  pure  and  beautiful  Mysticism  that 
springs  from  the  vision  or  the  sense  of  the  "  Oneness  "  of 
all  things  in  God.     It  knows  nothing  of  passion's  dis- 


xvi  INTRODUCTION" 

turbance  and  its  strain.  Its  saints  are  poets  and  its 
counterpart  in  Philosophy  is  Spiritual  Monism. 

The  fact  that  this  sense  has  been  evolved  steadily  and 
perceptibly  from  the  primitive  savage's  sense  of  the  super- 
natural is  no  ground  for  depreciating  it.  You  might  as 
v^ell  depreciate  the  mathematical  attainments  of  a  plural- 
ist philosopher  on  the  grounds  that  they  have  been  evolved 
from  the  primitive  savage's  calculations  with  the  fingers 
of  one  hand.  The  question  for  students  of  comparative 
religion  is,  not  vrhether  it  is  a  survival  (for  all  life  is  a 
survival),  but  whether  its  presence  marks  a  reversion  or  a 
progression — whether  it  is  a  sort  of  vermiform  appendage, 
or  a  form  inspired  with  the  secret  of  the  life  that  was  and 
is  and  is  to  be. 

But  I  am  painfully  aware  of  the  extreme  uncertainty  of 
my  "  Conclusions  "  too.  If  it  had  been  possible  to  give 
them  the  form  of  Questions,  without  making  a  mess  of  my 
sentences,  I  would  have  done  so.  It  would  have  shown, 
perhaps,  a  greater  courtesy  to  the  Inscrutable.  In  any 
case  I  do  not  want  to  be  wholly  identified  with  my  imag- 
inary monist,  who  is  so  undaunted  and  cock-sure.  Under 
the  horrible  mauling  he  gets  from  vitalists,  and  pragmatic 
humanists,  and  pluralists,  he  does  not,  I  am  afraid,  always 
display  the  very  best  metaphysical  temper. 

Though  I  think  the  pragmatic  method  a  wrong  method 
in  philosophy  I  have  used  it  in  one  section  of  my  final 
chapter;  but  I  have  followed  Mr.  McDougall's  good  ex- 
ample in  placing  it  where  it  could  do  no  harm. 

So  many  sources  have  been  drawn  on  that  but  a  small 
part,  if  any  part,  of  this  book  can  claim  to  be  an 
original  adventure.  The  best  of  it  is  only  a  following  of 
good  examples.  Where  I  have  touched  on  General  Psy- 
chology I  have  invariably  followed  Mr.  McDougall  as  the 
best  available  authority;  but  readers  who  are  not  familiar 
with  his  work  should  realize  that  he  is  not  responsible  for 


INTRODUCTION 


xvii 


anj  theories  I  may  have  based  on  it,  and  most  likely  he 
would  not  endorse  them. 

My  thanks  are  specially  due  to  my  friends,  Mrs.  Stuart 
Moore  (Evelyn  Underhill),  who  first  introduced  me  to  the 
classics  of  Western  Mysticism,  and  to  whose  work  in  this 
field  I  am  more  indebted  than  I  can  say,  and  Mr.  Cecil 
Delisle  Burns,  who  made  me  acquainted  with  the  New 
Eealists  and  held  continually  before  me  the  risks  I  ran 
in  differing  from  them.  And  to  Mrs.  Susie  S.  Brierley,  for 
criticism  relating  to  an  important  point  in  experimental 
psychology.  Also  to  Dr.  Beatrice  Hinkle  of  Cornell  Uni- 
versity, for  kindly  allowing  me  to  use  her  admirable  ren- 
dering of  the  Hjann  "  I  am  the  God  Atum,"  which  ap- 
pears in  her  translation  of  Dr.  Jung's  Psychology  of  the 
Unconscious;  and  to  the  Editor  of  The  North  American 
Review  for  leave  to  reprint  my  article  on  the  "  Gitanjali 
of  Sir  Eabindranath  Tagore." 

Mat  Sinclaib. 

LOKDON, 

January  25,  1917. 


CONTENTS 

PAGE 

Introduction v 

I    The  Pan-Psychism  of  Samuel  Butler  ....      1 
n    Vitalism 44 

III  Some  Ultimate  Questions  of  Psychology    ...     67 

IV  Some  Ultimate  Questions  of  Metaphysics   .     .     .  109 
V    Pragmatism  and  Humanism 127 

VI    The  New  Realism 151 

VII    The  New  Mysticism 240 

VIII    Conclusions 290 

Appendix 340 


A  DEFENCE  OF  IDEALISM 

SOME  QUESTIONS  AND  CONCLUSIONS 


A  DEFENCE  OF  IDEALISM 

SOME  QUESTIONS  AXD  COXCLUSIONS 

I 
THE  PAN-PSYCHISM  OF  SAMUEL  BUTLER 


The  plain  man  is  supposed  (by  philosophers  who  are  sure 
of  nothing)  to  be  sure  that,  whatever  else  he  is  or  isn't,  he 
is  himself.  He  may  or  may  not  believe  that  he  has  a  soul, 
or,  that,  if  he  has  one,  it  is  the  least  bit  likely  to  be  im- 
mortal ;  but  he  is  quite,  quite  sure  he  has  personal  identity ; 
that  he  is  not  his  own  grandmother  or  his  own  son;  and 
certainly  not  one  of  those  objectionable  Robinsons. 

He  may  even  flatter  himself  that  he  has  what  he  calls 
Individuality. 

It  is  these  happy  certainties,  and  this  pride  of  the  plain 
man  that  Samuel  Butler  shatters  with  his  theory  of  Pan- 
Psychism.  If  he  does  not  positively  strip  every  one  of  us 
bare  of  those  three  things,  he  maintains  that,  so  far  as  we 
can  be  said  to  have  them  at  all,  they  are  what  we  have  least 
cause  to  be  proud  of. 

As  there  certainly  is  a  sense,  and  a  very  distinct  sense, 
in  which  a  man  may  be  said  to  be  his  own  grandmother 
and  his  own  son  (if  he  has  a  son),  it  may  be  worth  while 
asking  what  we  mean  by  Individuality,  by  Personal  Iden- 
tity, and  by  a  Self  ? 

It  is  sometimes  assumed,  both  by  philosophers  and  plain 
men,  that  when  we  talk  about  these  three  things  we  mean, 
or  ought  to  mean,  the  same  thing.  Yet  it  is  pretty  evident 
that  we  don't,  and  that  we  oughtn't  to.     We  say  that  a 


2  A  DEFENCE  OF  IDEALISM 

man  has  individuality  if  lie  has  certain  striking  character- 
istics that  mark  him  out  from  other  men.  And  though, 
no  doubt,  by  "  individuality  "  we  mean  something  rather 
more  subtle  and  intimate  than,  say,  a  boisterous  manner  or 
a  taste  for  Cubism,  or  for  remarkable  and  distinctive  neck- 
wear, we  are  very  far  from  knowing  precisely  what  we  do 
mean. 

Anyhow,  the  term  individuality  would  seem  to  stand, 
not  so  much  for  personal  identity  as  for  the  marks  and 
signs  of  it,  and  for  something  belonging  to  a  self  rather 
than  for  selfhood. 

In  the  same  way,  "  personal  identity  "  is  not  a  term  we 
can  play  ducks  and  drakes  with.  It  does,  I  think,  imply 
something  that  either  has  identity  or  has  it  not,  that  either 
is  or  isn't  the  same  something  wherever  and  whenever  it 
appears  to  be.  And  that  "  something,"  again,  would  seem 
to  be  what  we  call  a  self. 

But  it  is  by  no  means  certain  that  the  something  that 
we  call  a  self  exists.  It  is,  indeed,  highly  problematical. 
And  as  the  existence  of  the  Self  happens  to  be  the  problem 
before  us  we  must  not  assume  it  at  the  start. 

The  trouble  is  that  we  have  got  to  make  some  attempt  at 
a  definition,  and  that  our  definition  must  be  wide  enough 
to  cover  all  the  ground  on  which  the  problem  has  been 
previously  debated.  For  this  purpose  we  are  driven  to  as- 
sume, most  improperly,  that  the  terms  Self,  Selfhood,  Per- 
sonality, Personal  Identity,  and  Individuality  all  stand  for 
one  and  the  same  thing. 

For  the  moment,  then,  I  shall  take  the  simplest  of  these 
terms.  Self,  and  define  it  as  that  which  is  present  to  all 
states  of  consciousness  in  any  one  conscious  organism,  and 
even  this  is  a  hazardous  definition.  Still,  I  can't  think  of 
any  other  that  is  more  likely  to  satisfy  any  of  the  dispu- 
tants without  begging  the  question  in  dispute. 

Consider  what  a  question  it  is. 

For  materialists  the  Self  is  an  illusory  by-product  of 


PAN-PSYCHISM  OF  SAMUEL  BUTLER       3 

consciousness,  which  is  itself  an  illusory  by-product  of  the 
physical  processes  of  the  organism  and  the  world  it  lives  in. 

For  idealists  like  Mr.  Bradley  the  Self  is  one  horn  of 
the  interesting  dilemma  which  lands  him  in  the  Absolute 
as  his  only  refuge. 

For  idealists  like  Dr.  McTaggart  it  is  a  fundamental, 
though  imperfect,  "  differentiation  of  the  Absolute  " ;  a 
paradox  that  does  not  quite  amount  to  a  dilemma. 

For  pragmatic  psychologists  like  William  James  it  is 
Individuality,  the  bundle  of  its  own  characteristics ;  so  its 
appropriate  place  is,  quite  clearly,  with  the  things  that  are 
not  selves.  Which  is  the  other  horn  of  Mr.  Bradley's 
dilemma. 

Again,  for  psychologists  intimidated  by  William  James, 
and  anxious  not  to  compromise  themselves,  it  is  "  psychical 
disposition,"  whatever  that  is. 

Souls  were  "  out  of  fashion  "  when  William  James  was 
lecturing  at  Harvard ;  but  they  are  coming  in  again  with 
the  courageous  psychology  of  Mr.  McDougall,  for  whom  a 
self  is,  in  plain,  honest  language,  a  Soul. 

For  biology  the  self  is  the  Individual,  and  the  Indi- 
vidual is  the  living  organism. 

For  biologists  like  Samuel  Butler,  so  far  as  individuality 
is  more  than  numerical  identity,  it  is  the  sum  of  the  char- 
acteristics acquired  consciously  by  the  organism  after  its 
birth, —  a  contemptible  sum  compared  with  the  vast  capi- 
tal it  carries  over  from  the  experience  of  the  race.  All 
that  experience  (by  which  it  has  incredibly  profited)  the 
individual  keeps  stored  in  his  unconscious  memory  and 
draws  upon  for  every  occasion  in  his  daily  life.  His  un- 
conscious memory  is  thus  a  vast  pantechnicon  of  knowl- 
edges and  aptitudes  that  serve  him  far  better  than  any 
that  he  can  learn  or  cultivate  on  his  own  account.  Ac- 
cording to  Samuel  Butler  our  unconscious  life  is  the  only 
life  that  is  complete  and  perfect  and  worthy  to  be  lived. 
And  he  drives  us  to  the  conclusion  that  individuality  is  the 


4:  A  DEFEKCE  OF  IDEALISM 

most  insecure  of  our  possessions,  and  that,  any  way,  the 
individual  does  not  greatly  matter. 

We  should  have  had  to  leave  it  at  that  but  for  certain 
recent  developments  in  the  study  of  abnormal  psychology. 

Psychoanalysis,  which  is  based  on  a  minute  and  de- 
tailed observation  of  the  same  facts  of  unconscious  mem- 
ory, suggests  the  opposite  conclusion. 

It  is  odd  that  the  only  light  that  has  so  far  been  shed  on 
this  dubious  question  should  come  from  that  region  of 
profound  murkiness.  This  is  not  the  place  either  for  a 
defence  or  for  a  critique  of  Psychoanalysis.^  Psycho- 
analysis is  on  its  trial.  The  result  of  the  trial  need  not 
concern  us.  Psychoanalysts  themselves  appear  to  be 
divided  into  two  camps.  Their  differences  need  not  con- 
cern us.  For  our  purposes  they  do  not  amount  to  a  row 
of  pins.  For  all  psychoanalysts  are  agreed  that  the  Un- 
conscious is  a  vast  pantechnicon;  but  a  pantechnicon 
murky  to  the  last  degree  and  chock-full  of  hideous  and  re- 
pulsive things.  But  its  murkiness  need  not  concern  us 
either.  Granting  for  the  moment  that  we  know  what  we 
mean  by  the  Unconscious,  and  that  the  Unconscious  is,  or 
can  be,  a  pantechnicon,  and  that  it  is  full  to  overflowing, 
I  see  no  reason  why  it  should  overflow  with  things  hideous 
and  repulsive  any  more  than  with  beautiful  and  attractive 
things.  It  seems  fairly  obvious  that  all  sorts  of  things 
must  have  been  put  away  there,  and  that  psychoanalysts 
have  not  laid  their  hands  on  all  of  them.  Enough  that 
both  the  psychoanalysts  and  Samuel  Butler  find  the  main- 
spring of  evolution  in  the  organism's  Will-to-live  and  to- 
make-live.  Both  assume  that  the  Life-Force  is  a  psychic 
rather  than  a  physical  thing. 

For  our  purposes  it  does  not  matter  whether  the  New 
Psychology  of  the  psychoanalyst  lays  too  much  stress  on 
the  Will-to-make-live  and  too  little  on  the  Will-to-live.     On 


PAN-PSYCHISM  OF  SAMUEL  BUTLER       5 

both  theories  the  Will-to-live  is  indestructible.  It  persists 
in  the  unconscious  memory  of  the  individual.  And 
through  his  unconscious  memory  the  individual  is  one 
with  the  race  psychically  as  well  as  physically. 

But  whereas  Samuel  Butler  says  our  only  sane  and  per- 
fect life  is  the  life  we  live  unconsciously,  the  whole  theory 
and  practice  of  psychoanalysis  rests  on  the  assumption 
that  we  only  live  sanely  and  perfectly  so  far  as  we  live 
consciously,  so  far  as  our  psyche  lifts  itself  up  above  its 
racial  memories  and  maintains  the  life  which  is  its  own  — 
that  is  to  say,  so  far  as  we  are  individuals.  The  secret  of 
individuality  lies  in  the  sublimation  to  consciousness  of 
the  unconscious  Will-to-live. 

To  me  this  theory  of  sublimation  is  the  one  thing  of 
interest  and  of  value  that  Professor  Freud  and  Professor 
Jung  have  contributed  to  Psychology.  Unfortunately  the 
classic  literature  of  the  subject  leaves  this  part  of  it  a 
little  vague.  The  student  is  told  all  about  psychoanalysis 
—  more  indeed  than  he  may  care  to  know ;  all  the  horrific 
contents  of  the  pantechnicon  are  turned  out  for  his  in- 
spection. But  it  is  left  to  his  ovrn  ingenuity  to  discover 
precisely  what  sublimation  is  and  how  it  works.  Roughly 
speaking,  it  is  the  diversion  of  the  Life-Force,  of  the  Will- 
to-live,  from  ways  that  serve  the  purposes  and  interests  of 
species,  into  ways  that  ser^^e  the  purposes  and  interests  of 
individuals.  Roughly  speaking,  all  religion,  all  morality, 
all  art,  all  science,  all  civilization  are  its  work. 

Now  it  may  be  objected  that  (unlike  Samuel  Butler) 
the  psychoanalyst  is  a  specialist,  and  a  specialist  in  ab- 
normal psychology  at  that.  And,  as  his  conclusions  are 
drawn  from  minute  and  incessant  observation  of  the  be- 
haviour of  abnormal  psyches,  they  can  be  of  no  possible  use 
to  us.^  We  are  not  concerned  with  the  eccentricities 
of  neurotics  and  of  moral  lunatics.  But  though  we  are 
not  concerned  with  them,  they  have  a  vital  bearing  on  our 


6  A  DEFENCE  OF  IDEALISM 

problem  all  the  same.  For  the  net  result  of  the  psycho- 
analyst's investigations  can  be  summed  up  in  three  words : 
Neurosis  is  degeneration. 

In  this  sphere  every  transgression  is  retrogression. 
Every  perversion  is  reversion.  The  neurotic,  or  the 
morally  insane  person,  has  turned  back  on  the  path  by 
which  he  came.  He  is  the  slave  or  the  victim  of  his  own 
unconscious  memories  and  instincts,  of  that  forgotten  yet 
undying  past  that  preys  upon  the  present  and  the  future. 

Individuality,  on  this  theory,  is  the  outcome  of  a  suc- 
cessful resistance  to  racial  tendencies.  The  normal 
grown-up  individual  has  no  longer  any  need  to  struggle 
against  the  forces  that  would  drag  him  back  and  back  to 
the  life  of  the  child,  the  savage  and  the  ape ;  but  the  more 
individual  he  is  the  more  he  will  resist  the  pull  of  the 
generation  just  behind  him.  And  all  individuality  —  the 
first  time  it  appears  —  is  genius. 

Clearly,  this  triumph  of  the  individual  would  be  im- 
possible if  the  Will-to-live  were  incapable  of  sublimation, 
and  if  there  were  not  more  of  it  going,  as  it  were,  than 
what  suffices  for  the  needs  of  the  species.  We  have, 
therefore,  to  assume  this  incalculable  amount  over  and 
above,  and  this  capacity  for  sublimation.  And  here  we 
are  up  against  that  bogy  of  the  psychoanalysts' —  Eepres- 
sion. 

At  first  sight  it  seems  obvious  that  sublimation  should 
involve  repression.  The  instincts  of  the  primitive  savage 
must  be  repressed  in  the  interests  of  civilization.  The 
baby's  sucking  instincts  must  be  repressed  if  the  child  is  to 
be  fed  from  cup  and  spoon.  Adolescence  must  break  the 
child's  habit  of  dependence  if  it  is  ever  to  become  man- 
hood. At  any  age  there  is  a  limit  to  the  desires  the  indi- 
vidual can  satisfy  and  the  pursuits  he  can  follow  with 
success.  Sooner  or  later  a  selection  must  be  made;  and, 
other  things  equal,  the  beauty  and  worth  of  the  individual 


PAI^-PSYCHISM  OF  SAMUEL  BUTLER       7 

will  depend  on  the  beauty  and  the  worth  of  the  interests 
he  chooses  for  his  own.  All  sublimation  is  a  turning  and 
passing  of  desire  from  a  less  worthy  or  less  fitting  object 
to  fix  it  on  one  more  worthy  or  more  fitting. 

In  the  healthy  individual  there  is  no  more  danger  in  this 
turning  and  passing  than  in  the  transition  from  infantile 
baldness  to  a  head  of  hair.  But  for  the  neurotic  every 
turning,  every  passage,  bristles  with  conflict  and  disturb- 
ance. He  goes  through  crises  that  the  normal  individual 
never  knows.  Repression  seems  to  be  positively  dangerous 
to  him.  He  cannot  take  even  a  little  mild  correction 
without  it  hurting  him.  He  cannot  take  anything  like 
other  people. 

Now  the  psychoanalysts  tell  you  that  wherever  there  is 
repression  without  sublimation  there  is  a  neurosis  or 
psychosis.  It  would  be  truer  to  say  that  wherever  there  is 
repression  there  is  no  sublimation,  and  wherever  there  is 
sublimation  there  is  no  repression.  The  Will-to-live  has 
found  another  outlet,  the  indestructible  desire  another  ob- 
ject, and  all  is  well.  For  the  happy  normal  individual, 
desire  is  never  repressed;  it  is  either  directed  and  con- 
trolled, or  it  wanders  of  its  own  accord  into  the  paths  of 
sublimation.  (Psychoanalysts,  out  to  vilify  the  Uncon- 
scious, have  not  paid  sufficient  attention  to  the  facts  of 
unconscious  sublimation  and  all  that  they  imply.) 

It  is  not  quite  clear  whether  with  the  neurotic  every  at- 
tempt at  normal  control  issues  in  a  repression.  Most 
cases  seem  to  point  to  some  inhibition  of  the  process  of 
sublimation.  The  neurotic  is  so  ticklish  that  both  right- 
eous reproof  and  tender  admonition  may  have  this  arrest- 
ing tendency.  Anyhow,  it  seems  pretty  certain  that, 
whatever  may  cause  it  to  occur,  genuine  repression,  the 
damming  up  of  every  outlet  for  the  Will-to-live,  does 
really,  sooner  or  later,  set  up  some  form  of  neurosis. 

When  this  happens,  the  repressed  Will-to-live,  the  frus- 


8  A  DEFEN^CE  OF  IDEALISM 

trated  desire,  whatever  it  may  be,  turned  back  again  into 
the  Unconscious,  is  stamped  down  there,  forsaken  by  the 
psyche  and  forgotten. 

But  it  is  not  destroyed.  You  cannot  destroy  what  is 
indestructible.  Cut  off  from  the  psyche's  real  life,  it  sets 
up  an  unreal  life  of  its  own.  It  lives  again,  as  all  unac- 
complished desires  live,  in  the  dream  world,  and  in  the 
haunted  world  below  our  waking  consciousness.  There  it 
plays  its  part,  disguised  in  fantastic  and  symbolic  forms 
that  have  an  ancient  history. 

For  when  Professor  Freud  began  analysing  the  dreams 
and  waking  phantasies  of  his  patients,  he  discovered  that 
the  persistent  and  recurrent  symbols  of  the  neurotic  dream 
and  the  insane  phantasy  are  the  same  symbols  that  we  find, 
persistent  and  recurrent,  in  all  primitive  ritual  and  myth 
and  folk-lore.  For  instance,  in  the  dream  —  which  he  de- 
fines as  "  the  disguised  fulfilment  of  a  repressed  wish  " — 
a  serpent,  fire,  wood,  water,  a  tree,  an  arrow,  a  sword,  an 
eagle,  a  wheel,  a  circle,  a  cross,  a  ram,  a  lion,  a  hat,  have 
the  same  symbolic  meaning  and  are  used  with  the  same 
psychological  intention  of  revelation  and  disguise  as  in  the 
oldest  rituals  and  mythologies.  Wherever  they  appear 
they  stand  for  the  Life-Force,  the  Will-to-live  and  to- 
make-live;  and  their  ritual  intention  represents  man's 
primitive  and  incomplete  effort  at  sublimation.^ 

They  are  there,  in  the  Unconscious,  just  because  they 
were  there  from  the  beginning.  The  very  fact  that  the 
repressed  desire  finds  them  there  and  arrays  itself  in  them 
shows  how  far  it  has  turned  back  along  the  path  by  which 
it  came. 

The  psyche  has  forgotten  these  things  and  knows  noth- 
ing. But  the  Will-to-live  has  been  there  before  and  re- 
members. It  knows  its  old  playground  and  is  at  home  on 
it.  And  there  it  stays,  horribly,  forlornly  enchanted ;  be- 
yond the  reach  of  consciousness,  its  vehicle  a  symbol,  its 
clothing  a  dream. 


PA^-PSYCHISM  OF  SAMUEL  BUTLER       9 

You  see  tow  dreadful  it  all  is,  and  how  easily  the  cause 
of  neurosis  and  of  insanity  might  lie  there ;  in  the  cutting 
and  casting  off,  the  miserable  isolation  and  abandonment 
of  the  Will-to-live,  its  powerlessness  to  answer  to  the 
psyche's  call.  If  the  neurotic  cannot  sublimate  his  Will- 
to-live  it  is  because  his  Will-to-live  has  been  turned  back  so 
far  that  all  conscious  links  with  it  are  broken. 

If  this  is  not  psychoanalysis,  it  is  the  purified  spirit  of 
psychoanalysis.  It  is,  I  believe,  the  truth  that  underlies 
its  theory.  The  reality  that  underlies  its  practice  is  the 
breaking  of  the  spell  of  f orgetf ulness ;  the  deliverance  of 
the  Will-to-live  from  its  bondage  to  the  Unconscious. 
With  its  restoration  to  the  psyche's  conscious  life  sublima- 
tion becomes  possible  to  it.  And  with  sublimation  the  in- 
dividual comes  again  into  his  own. 

In  this  healing  process  it  is  clear  that  we  have  to  do,  not 
so  much  with  the  disclosure  of  a  shameful  secret  as  with 
the  recovery  of  a  lost  Will. 

It  does  not  look  at  first  sight  as  if  Psychoanalysis  had 
given  us  anything  that  amounts  to  very  much.  Only  three 
conceptions  more  or  less  coherent:  a  conception  of  the 
Will-to-live,  valid  as  far  as  it  goes,  but  vague,  and  bound 
up  with  a  conception  of  the  Unconscious  worse  than  vague, 
because  it  betrays  its  inherent  self-contradiction  as  soon 
as  you  begin  to  work  with  it :  a  conception  of  Sublimation 
by  which  this  Will-to-live  perpetually  transcends  itself 
and  is  made  manifest  in  higher  and  higher  and  more  and 
more  complex  forms  of  life, —  a  process  described  in 
terms  which  sound  morally  satisfying,  and  are  still  any- 
thing but  clear :  a  conception  of  the  Individual  as  a  being 
of  immense  importance,  seeing  that  just  those  forces 
within  and  without  him  which  arrest  and  retard  his  indi- 
viduality are  backward  forces ;  that  the  worst  misfortune 
that  can  befall  him  is  the  backward  turn  that  lands  him 
in  his  own  past;  and  that  the  peculiar  malignity  of  his 
worst  maladies  is  that  they  rob  him  of  his  power  to  assert 


10  A  DEFENCE  OF  IDEALISM 

his  qualities  against  the  general  characteristics  of  the  race. 
Still,  this  conception  of  individuality  is  something.  The 
individual,  at  whatever  stage  we  find  him,  appears  as  the 
forerunner,  the  master  builder,  that  superior,  swifter 
vehicle  of  the  Will-to-live  which  carries  it  forward  and 
upward.  By  virtue  of  his  individuality  he  serves  the 
higher  functions  of  the  Will-to-live.  The  plot  thickens, 
widens,  deepens,  and  grows  infinitely  richer  as  the  indi- 
vidual gets  his  hand  in  more  and  more. 

We  have  there  a  perfectly  valid  and  comparatively  pre- 
cise conception. 

And  yet  it  is  only  when  we  come  to  the  Individual  and 
ask  ourselves  what  we  mean  by  Individuality  that  our  real 
troubles  begin. 

This  conception  of  the  Individual  that  Psychoanalysis 
gives  us  is  bound  up  with  our  vague  conception  of  the 
Will-to-live,  which  is  itself  bound  up  with  the  still  vaguer 
conception  of  the  Unconscious.  And  it  is  this  conception 
of  the  Unconscious  which  blocks  the  way. 

Until  now,  here  and  elsewhere,  to  avoid  confusion, 
I  have  followed  my  authors  in  using  this  term  —  using  it 
in  any  sense  which  happened  to  serve  any  purpose  of  the 
context  at  the  time.  In  slavish  subservience  I  have 
spoken  of  instincts  and  desires,  symbolic  meanings  and 
ideas  hidden  away  in  our  Unconsciousness,  as  if  our  Un- 
consciousness were  a  cupboard  or  a  cellar.  Just  now  I 
spoke  of  stamping  them  down  into  the  Unconscious,  as  if 
it  were  so  much  damp  earth,  and  of  lifting  them  up  out 
of  it  and  carrying  them  into  the  Conscious,  as  if  this 
operation  were  performed  with  a  spade  and  wheel-barrow. 
I  even  suggested,  and  not  so  very  figuratively  either,  a 
going  down  into  the  Unconscious  to  fetch  back  the  Will- 
to-live. 

And  all  the  time  I  was  doing  it,  it  seemed  to  me  that  my 
authors  and  I  were  describing  a  perfectly  credible  per- 
formance.    It  seemed  to  follow  from  the  grounds   and 


PAN-PSYCHISM  OF  SAMUEL  BUTLER     11 

from  the  whole  trend  and  purpose  of  Psychoanalysis  that 
the  performance  was  credible ;  and  with  each  step  the  Un- 
conscious acquired  more  and  more  an  almost  discernible 
substance  and  a  palpable  power.  There  it  was,  under- 
lying everybody's  psychic  processes,  and  doing  people  — 
quite  innocent  people  —  all  sorts  of  harm.  And  if  I  did 
not  speak  of  unconscious  psychic  processes  it  was  more  by 
good  luck  than  good  management. 

Now,  by  the  Unconscious  you  may  mean,  properly, 
either  things  without  consciousness,  such  as  chairs  and 
tables,  and  thunder  and  lightning ;  or  living  things,  includ- 
ing ourselves,  in  their  moments  of  unconsciousness.  Or  a 
metaphysical  Peality  conceived  as  unconscious. 

The  first  sense  was  not  contemplated  in  any  of  our  con- 
texts. (You  cannot  talk  about  stamping  instincts  and  de- 
sires down  into  the  inorganic.)  And  we  should  have  had 
to  be  very  sure  of  our  ^'  selves  "  and  the  "  selves  "  of  other 
organic  beings  before  adopting  the  second.  The  third  will 
appear  later,  but  we  have  no  need  for  it  yet. 

So  our  real  meaning  emerges.  When  we  talk  about  un- 
conscious psychic  states  and  unconscious  psychic  processes, 
we  mean  psychic  states  and  processes  of  which  we  are  not 
conscious.  It  is  owing  to  the  limitations  of  the  language 
that  we  are  obliged  to  talk  about  the  states  as  if  they  were 
or  could  be  conscious  or  unconscious  of  themselves.  We 
have  no  business  whatever  to  hand  over  our  consciousness 
or  unconsciousness  to  them.  We  may  have  to  go  on  talk- 
ing about  conscious  and  unconscious  states,  for  the  sake  of 
convenience  in  handling  sentences,  but  we  should  be  very 
sure  that  we  know  what  we  are  doing. 

On  the  other  hand  we  cannot  talk  about  states  of  un- 
consciousness as  if  the  term  were  interchangeable  with 
states  we  are  not  conscious  of.  For  we  have  nothing  im- 
mediately before  us  from  moment  to  moment  but  the 
states  of  consciousness.  A  state  of  unconsciousness  may 
mean  any  condition  of  unawareness,  from  profound  sleep 


12  A  DEFENCE  OF  IDEALISM 

to  mere  forgetfulness,  or  inattention  to  what  is  going  on 
around  me,  or  ignorance  —  say  of  what  President  Wilson 
is  going  to  do  about  the  Blockade,  or  of  what  my  neighbour 
is  doing  in  his  back  garden.  A  state  of  which  we  are  not 
conscious  is  a  state  whose  existence  we  infer  from  its  re- 
sults when  we  happen  to  be  conscious  of  them.  Such  are 
our  so-called  inherited  instincts,  the  hidden  "  complexes," 
the  hidden  ideas,  meanings  and  associations  revealed  under 
hypnotic  suggestion  and  psychoanalysis;  and  all  states  of 
so-called  "  unconscious  cerebration." 

]^ow  at  any  moment  I  may  wake  from  my  sleep,  I  may 
remember  what  I  have  forgotten,  my  attention  may  be 
drawn  to  what  is  going  on  around  me,  even  my  ignorance 
of  what  President  Wilson  is  going  to  do  will  cease  when, 
if  ever,  he  should  finally  make  up  his  mind,  and  with  a 
little  trouble  I  can  inform  myself  of  what  my  neighbour 
is  doing  in  his  back  garden.  But  of  my  states  of  "  un- 
conscious cerebration  "  I  am  never  conscious ;  and  I  may 
go  all  my  life  without  being  conscious  of  a  single  one  of 
my  "  inherited  "  instincts  or  of  those  hidden  things.  And 
the  probability  is  that  I  shall  in  no  circumstances  ever  be 
conscious  of  by  far  the  greater  number  of  them.  Even  of 
the  things  I  merely  do  not  attend  to  —  to  say  nothing  of 
the  million  impressions  that  assail  my  sense  organs  every 
instant,  of  which  every  instant  I  remain  profoundly  un- 
aware —  the  chances  are  that,  though  they  must  be  faith- 
fully recorded  somewhere,  I  shall  never  be  more  conscious 
of  them  than  I  am  now. 

I  am  insisting  on  these  distinctions  —  familiar  to  every 
student  of  psychology  —  because  they  help  to  clear  up  the 
original  confusion,  and  because  we  shall  have  to  consider 
them  very  carefully  later  on. 

For  the  moment,  then,  we  must  assume  that  the  terms 
Unconscious  and  Unconsciousness  stand  for  any  or  all  of 
those  psychic  or  psychophysical  states  of  which  we  are 
not  conscious.     And  by  the  "  Conscious  "  and  the  "  Con- 


PAN-PSYCHISM  OF  SAMUEL  BUTLER     13 

sciousness  "  we  have  been  talking  about  we  mean  states  of 
consciousness  and  nothing  more;  otherwise  we  shall  be 
begging  the  question  of  the  existence  and  the  nature  of 
the  ultimate  principle  we  desire  to  re-establish  later  on. 
We  ought  to  mean  this,  and  we  must  mean  it ;  for,  what- 
ever else  we  want  to  mean  and  intend  ultimately  to  mean, 
it  is  all  that  discreet  Psychology  will  allow  us  to  mean  at 
present. 

"  Unconsciousness "  or  "  the  Unconscious,"  then,  re- 
solves itself  into  a  negative  abstraction. 

But  we  must  not  forget  that  in  our  context  its  function 
was  neither  negative  nor  abstract;  it  played  a  very  posi- 
tive and  concrete  psychological  role.  And  if  we  are  asked 
whether  in  dismissing  it  we  have  anything  half  so  good  to 
put  in  its  place,  we  may  say  that  states,  or  processes,  of 
which  we  are  not  conscious  will  do  extremely  well ;  and  if 
we  want  to  keep  the  old  terms,  "  the  Unconscious  "  or 
"  Unconsciousness,"  understood  as  a  sort  of  convenient 
shorthand  for  these  fuller  and  more  precise  terms,  we 
may.  Or  we  can  use  them  as  equivalents  for  the  sum  of 
those  processes  and  states. 

As  we  have  seen,  by  far  the  most  important  part  among 
them  was  taken  by  the  Will-to-live.  It  is  this  Will-to-live 
that  we  have  conceived  of  as  transferred  and  transformed, 
or  sublimated,  and  as  passing  over  from  the  Unconscious 
to  the  Conscious,  as  if  it  belonged  veritably  and  by  its  own 
nature  to  both  worlds.  If  it  did  it  would  be  as  good  a 
bridge  as  any  we  have  a  right  to  ask  for ;  and  it  may  prove 
to  be  all  the  bridge  we  are  entitled  to  have. 

But  we  found  the  gi-eatest  difficulty  in  representing  to 
ourselves  at  all  intelligibly  its  double  role.  And  as  far  as 
our  conception  of  Individuality  and  Personal  Identity  is 
bound  up  with  this  conception  of  the  amphibious  nature  of 
the  Will-to-live  it  will  be  affected  by  its  vagueness  and 
confusion.  It  may  be  that  this  is  inevitable,  and  that  we 
cannot  form  any  intelligible  conception  of  either,  or  of 


14  A  DEFEI^CE  OF  IDEALISM 

their  relations  to  each  other;  in  which  case  we  shall  have 
to  accept  the  problem  as  insoluble  and  put  up  with  the 
vagueness  and  confusion. 

Let  it  be  clear  that  this  trouble  is  the  old  trouble  carried 
a  step  farther,  and  that  the  vagueness,  confusion,  and  unin- 
telligibility  arise  from  nothing  more  or  less  than  the  in- 
trusion of  the  Unconscious,  with  a  big  U,  into  the  region 
of  the  Conscious  with  a  big  C.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  un- 
conscious states,  states  we  are  not  conscious  of,  always  are 
intruding,  that  is  to  say,  conditioning,  determining,  gen- 
erally influencing,  and  for  all  we  know  to  the  contrary, 
actually  causing  conscious  ones.  They  can  do  this  to  the 
disturbance  and  the  detriment  of  our  Individuality,  or 
perhaps  (a  most  disagreeable  thought)  even  of  our  Per- 
sonal Identity. 

Now,  if  it  could  be  shown  that  there  never  was  an  un- 
conscious psychic  state  that  was  not,  at  some  time  or  other, 
a  conscious  one,  and  may  be,  at  some  time  or  other,  a  con- 
scious one  again ;  if  it  could  be  shown  that  all  unconscious- 
ness at  least  of  what  we  call  "  past "  states  is  simply  a 
forgetting  which  is  never  final  and  complete ;  if,  further,  it 
could  be  shown  that  what  we  call  forgetting  is  never  for- 
tuitous or  arbitrary,  is  never  even  involuntary,  that  we 
forget  not  because  we  must,  but  because  we  will  and  for 
our  own  purposes,  and  that  we  remember  for  the  same 
reason,  remembrance  being  selection  and  selection  an  act 
of  will,  and  that  both  remembrance  and  forgetting  serve 
the  interests  of  our  individuality  and  are  part  of  the  ever- 
lasting process  of  sublimation,  we  shall  be  very  much 
nearer  the  solution  of  our  problem  than  we  are  now. 

I  confess  that  I  should  not  have  known  where  to  turn 
for  the  precise  evidence  which  will  show  this  if  it  were 
not  for  the  work  of  Samuel  Butler,  the  only  thinker, 
so  far  as  I  know,  except  his  predecessor.  Professor  Ewald 
Hering,^  who  has  succeeded  in  making  the  subject 
of  Heredity  thoroughly  intelligible.     I  might  have  said, 


PAN-PSYCHISM  OF  SAMUEL  BUTLER      15 

who  has  made  it  thoroughly  amusing  at  the  same  time. 

The  undeserved  neglect  of  Butler's  scientific  work  is 
probably  owing  to  his  incurable  habit  of  being  amusing, 
not  mildly  and  academically,  but  startlingly,  recklessly, 
extravagantly  amusing  throughout  the  entire  course  of  a 
serious  argument.  What  was  the  scientific  world  of  the 
'seventies  and  'eighties  to  think  of  a  man  who  could  dream 
of  immortalizing  his  Address  on  "  Memory  as  a  Key  to  the 
Phenomena  of  Heredity  "  under  the  title  of  Clergyman 
and  Chickens?  ^  It  seemed  to  consider  that  a  man 
who  couldn't  control  himself  far  enough  to  be  serious  over 
a  serious  subject  like  that  was  not  to  be  taken  seriously. 
Besides,  though  Butler  could  dissect  clergymen  very  skil- 
fully, it  was  evident  that  he  had  never  so  much  as  skinned 
a  chicken  in  his  life.  So  the  scientific  bigwigs  of  his 
day  neglected  Butler.  And  I  am  afraid  that  even  at  this 
moment  Psychoanalysts  who  can  talk  about  the  "  poly- 
morphous perverse  "  and  the  "  Father-Imago  "  without 
the  ghost  of  a  smile  will  have  no  use  for  Butler  either. 

Still,  they  ought  to  have,  for  he  has  done  more  to  make 
them  intelligible  than  they  have  themselves. 

I  cannot  help  myself  to  as  much  of  Butler  as  I  should 
like,  for  I  should  get  into  trouble  with  the  holders  of  his 
copyright.  So  I  must  refer  my  readers  (if  I  am  lucky 
enough  to  have  any)  to  the  four  books  on  evolution  and 
heredity:  Life  and  Hahit,  Evolution  Old  and  New,  Un- 
conscious Memory,  Luck  or  Cunning?  and  all  the  passages 
in  The  Note-Books  of  Samuel  Butler  which  bear  on  those 
subjects  and  on  individuality  and  Personal  Identity.  And 
if  in  the  end  I  accept  Butler's  theory  of  Heredity  and  re- 
ject his  theory  of  Individuality  and  Personal  Identity  it  is 
for  his  own  reasons  and  for  others  which  I  hope  will  be 
made  clear. 

First  of  all  (readers  of  Butler  must  forgive  me  if  I 
take  them  over  ground  already  familiar  to  them),  first  of 
all  he  starts  with  certain  observations  of  experience.     Ac- 


16  A  DEFENCE  OF  IDEALISM 

tions  which  we  once  performed  with  difficulty  and  with 
attention,  with  immense  effort  of  will  and  intense  con- 
sciousness, such  as  playing  an  instrument,  writing,  read- 
ing, talking  and  walking,  we  now  perform  automatically 
and  unconsciously,  and  with  a  success  increasing  according 
to  the  extent  of  our  practice,  that  is  to  say,  according  to 
the  numbers  of  times  those  actions  have  been  repeated,  the 
point  of  perfection  being  only  reached  when  the  action  is 
performed  unconsciously. 

All  these  actions,  constantly  repeated,  have  become 
habits  of  our  body. 

Still,  a  certain  amount  of  consciousness  goes  with  the 
action  of  walking,  and  a  greater  amount  with  the  action  of 
talking,  and  so  on,  while  (Butler  might  have  added)  con- 
tinuance of  all  of  them  past  the  point  of  fatigue  will  bring 
us  back  to  effort  and  consciousness  again.  So  that  we  can 
realize  how  great  must  have  been  the  effort  and  how  in- 
tense the  consciousness  they  started  with. 

But  the  older  actions  and  habits,  such  as  the  beating  of 
the  heart,  breathing  and  digestion,  are  unaccompanied  by 
consciousness  and  effort,  or  any  memory  of  consciousness 
and  effort.^  And  Butler  asks :  "  Is  it  possible  that 
our  unconsciousness  concerning  our  own.  performance  of 
all  these  processes  arises  from  over  experience  ?  "  ^ 

His  entire  theory  of  evolution  is  thus  based  on  the 
simple  truism  that  Practice  makes  perfect. ^'^  When 
he  finds  an  action  performed  with  a  supreme  perfection,  a 
supreme  unconsciousness,  he  concludes  —  not  that  these 
actions  have  always  been  unconscious,  but  —  that  ages  of 
practice,  of  effort  that  has  been  conscious,  have  gone  to  the 
result.  ^^  He  argues  that  we  do  these  things  so  well 
only  because  we  have  done  them  before,  because  in  the 
persons  of  our  parents  and  our  ancestors  we  have  prac- 
tised doing  them  for  untold  ages.  (Observe  that  Butler 
regards  the  experience  of  our  parents  and  our  ancestors  as 
our  experience  just  as  much  and  in  as  much  as  our  bodies 


PAN-PSYCHISM  OF  SAMUEL  BUTLER     17 

are  our  bodies. )     Because  —  in  short  —  we  know  how  to 
do  them. 

"  What  is  to  know  how  to  do  a  thing  ?  Surely  to  do  it.  What 
is  proof  that  we  know  how  to  do  a  thing?  Surely  the  fact  that 
we  can  do  it.  A  man  shows  that  he  knows  how  to  throw  the 
boomerang  by  throwing  the  boomerang.  No  amount  of  talking 
and  of  writing  can  get  over  this ;  ipso  facto,  that  a  baby  breathes 
and  makes  its  blood  circulate,  it  knows  how  to  do  so ;  and  the 
fact  that  it  does  not  know  its  own  knowledge  is  only  proof  of  the 
perfection  of  that  knowledge,  and  of  the  vast  number  of  past 
occasions  on  which  it  must  have  been  exercised  already."^^ 

And  what  holds  good  of  the  baby  and  its  body  after  birth 
holds  good  before  birth. 

"  A  baby,  therefore,  has  known  how  to  grow  itself  in  the 
womb  and  has  only  done  it  because  it  wanted  to,  on  a  balance 
of  considerations,  in  the  same  way  as  a  man  who  goes  into  the 
city  to  buy  Great  Northern  shares.  ...  It  is  only  unconscious 
of  these  operations  because  it  has  done  them  a  very  large  num- 
ber of  times  already.  A  man  may  do  a  thing  by  a  fluke  once, 
but  to  say  that  a  foetus  can  perform  so  difficult  an  operation  as 
the  growth  of  a  pair  of  eyes  out  of  pure  protoplasm  without 
knowing  how  to  do  it,  and  without  having  done  it  before,  is  to 
contradict  all  human  experience.  Ipso  facto  that  it  does  it,  it 
knows  how  to  do  it,  and  ipso  facto  that  it  knows  how  to  do  it, 
it  has  done  it  before."  ^^ 

And  what  holds  good  of  the  unborn  baby  holds  good  of 
the  primordial  germ  plasm. 

"  There  is  in  every  impregnate  ovum  a  bona  fide  memory, 
which  carries  it  back  not  only  to  the  time  when  it  was  last  an 
impregnate  ovum,  but  to  that  earlier  date  when  it  was  the  very 
beginning  of  life  at  all,  which  same  creature  it  still  is,  whether 
as  man  or  ovum,  and  hence  imbued,  as  far  as  time  and  circum- 
stances allow,  with  all  its  memories."  ^* 

That  neither  the  baby  nor  the  germ  consciously  knows 
and  remember  any  longer  is  what  we  might  infer  from  the 
present  ease  and  perfection  of  their  performances. 


18  A  DEFENCE  OE  IDEALISM 

"  We  must  be  all  aware  of  instances  in  which  it  is  plain  we 
must  have  remembered,  without  being  in  the  least  degree  con- 
scious of  remembering.  Is  it  then  absurd  to  suppose  that  our 
past  existences  have  been  repeated  on  such  a  vast  number  of 
occasions  that  the  germ,  linked  on  to  all  preceding  germs,  and, 
by  once  having  become  part  of  their  identity,  imbued  with  all 
their  memories,  remembers  too  intensely  to  be  conscious  of  re- 
membering, and  works  on  with  the  same  kind  of  unconscious- 
ness with  which  we  play,  or  walk,  or  read,  until  something  un- 
familiar happens  to  us  ?  "  ^^ 

This  "  something  unfamiliar  "  that  happens  to  it  being 
birth. 

And  when  we  look  at  the  life  of  the  grown-up  individual 
and  of  the  baby  and  of  the  germ  as  an  unbroken  series,  it 
is  a  "  singular  coincidence  "  that  "  we  are  most  conscious 
of  and  have  most  control  over  "  our  distinctively  human 
functions,  and  that  we  are  "  less  conscious  of  and  have  less 
control  over  "  our  prehuman  functions,  and  that  "  we  are 
least  conscious  of  and  have  least  control  over  "  those  func- 
tions ''  which  belonged  even  to  our  invertebrate  ancestry, 
and  which  are  habits,  geologically  speaking,  of  extreme 
antiquity."  ^^ 

Surely  an  utterly  incomprehensible  arrangement  if  we 
exclude  consciousness  and  design  from  evolution;  per- 
fectly comprehensible,  not  to  say  inevitable  if  we  admit 
them.^^ 

There  are  other  facts  in  evolution  which  are  perfectly 
explicable  on  Butler's  theory,  and  utterly  incomprehensible 
if  we  exclude  desire  and  design  and  the  continuity  of  con- 
sciousness in  all  organic  beings.  Such  axe  the  sterility 
of  hybrids,  the  instincts  of  neuter  insects;  and,  to  some 
extent,  the  effects  of  use  and  disuse,  which  fit  into  it  with- 
out exactly  calling  for  it.^^ 

His  conclusion  is,  not  that  memory  and  instinct  are 
habit,  but  that  all  habit  and  all  instinct  are  memory;  ^^ 
that  both  are  the  result  of  practice ;  that  both,  unerring  and 
perfect  in  adaptation  as  they  have  become,  presuppose 


PAI^-PSYCHISM  OF  SAMUEL  BUTLER     19 

knowledge  and  volition  on  the  part  of  the  individual  that 
displays  them,  and  not,  as  we  are  accustomed  to  imagine, 
merely  on  the  part  of  its  ancestors ;  that  when  we  talk  about 
inherited  memory  or  inherited  anything,  we  have  fallen 
into  confused  thinking  and  are  using  words  without  mean- 
ing; that  every  reflex  is  a  lapsed  volition,  and  all  uncon- 
sciousness a  lapsed  consciousness;  that  change  and  growth 
arise  in  fulfilment  of  a  need,  a  want,  a  "  libido,"  having  at 
one  time  been  brought  about  with  consciousness,  with  de- 
sign and  with  volition;  that  the  individual  inherits  his 
own  and  not  another's,  and  therefore  knows  it  again  so 
perfectly  that  he  is  not  "  conscious  "  of  it,  he  himself,  the 
irreducible  entity,  having  been  present  in  all  experiences 
and  in  all  memories  we  call  racial  or  ancestral. 

"  What  is  this  talk  that  is  made  about  the  experience  of  the 
race,  as  though  the  experience  of  one  man  could  profit  another 
one  who  knows  nothing  about  him?  If  a  man  eats  his  dinner. 
it  nourishes  him  and  not  his  neighbour;  if  he  learns  a  difficult 
art,  it  is  he  that  can  do  it  and  not  his  neighbour,"  -^ 

But  when  we  come  to  ask  lioiu  the  Individual  has  been 
present  in  the  experiences  of  his  ancestors,  and  in  what 
way  his  ancestors,  on  this  theory,  differ  from  him,  Butler's 
answer,  though  transparently  clear,  is  hard  to  reconcile 
with  any  conception  of  the  importance  of  the  Individual. 
Not  that  there  is  the  smallest  confusion  in  his  mind  on  this 
crucial  point : 

".  .  .  an  impregnate  ovum  cannot  without  a  violation  of  first 
principles  be  debarred  from  claiming  personal  identity  with  both 
its  parents.  ..." 

".  .  .  We  ignore  the  offspring  as  forming  part  of  the  person- 
ality of  the  parent  .  .  .  the  law  .  .  ,  perceives  the  completeness 
of  the  present  identity  between  fatber  and  son.  .  .  ," 

"  The  continued  existence  of  personal  identity  between  parents 
and  offspring,"     (Life  and  Hahii,  pages  85,  95.  97.) 

"  But  can  a  person  be  said  to  do  a  thing  by  force  of  habit  or 
routine  when  it  is  his  ancestors  and  not  he  that  has  done  it 


20  A  DEFENCE  OF  IDEALISM 

hitherto  ?     Not  unless  he  and  his  ancestors  are  one  and  the  same 
person."     {Unconscious  Memory,  page  17.) 

It  is  also  expressly  stated  that  "  oneness  of  personality 
between  parents  and  offspring  "  is  the  first  of  the  "  four 
main  principles  "  laid  down  in  Life  arid  Habit.  {Uncon- 
scious Memory,  page  19). 

"  Personal  identity  cannot  be  denied  between  parents  and  off- 
spring without  at  the  same  time  denying  it  as  between  the  differ- 
ent ages  (and  hence  moments)  in  the  life  of  the  individual." 
{The  Note  Boohs  of  Samuel  Butler,  page  375.) 

On  this  showing  the  individual  has  but  little  that  he 
can  call  his  own.  It  is  not  so  much  that  the  memories  of 
his  ancestors  are  platted  in  with  his  memories  as  that  his 
memories  —  all  but  the  comparatively  few  and  insignifi- 
cant ones  contributed  by  his  experiences  after  birth  —  are 
platted  in  with  theirs.  To  say  that  this  is  impossible,  be- 
cause he  has  never  appeared  as  an  individual  before  birth, 
is  to  beg  the  question  of  his  appearance  and  his  individu- 
ality. 

It  is  clear  that  Butler  had  no  particular  prejudice  in 
favour  of  his  own  conclusion,  but  that  he  was  driven  to  it 
by  an  impartial  survey  of  the  facts.  We  shall  see  later  on 
that  he  was  driven  into  the  very  last  place  where  we  should 
expect  to  find  him,  the  last  place  where  he  would  have 
wished  to  be.  I  repeat,  there  is  no  confusion  and  no  hesi- 
tation in  Butler's  mind  on  this  point.  We  were  our  own 
parents  and  grand-parents,  we  were  our  entire  prehuman 
ancestry.  Even  after  birth  we  are  little  else  besides,  and 
before  birth  we  were  nothing  more. 

He  even  regards  the  individual's  life  while  yet  in  the 
bodies  of  his  parents  as  superior  to  his  life  after  birth,  be- 
cause he  considers  that  all  perfect  knowing  is  unconscious. 

"  When  we  were  yet  unborn  our  thoughts  kept  the  roadway 
decently  enough;  then  we  were  blessed:  we  thought  as  every 


PAN-PSYCHISM  OF  SAMUEL  BUTLER     21 

man  thinks,  and  held  the  same  opinions  as  our  fathers  and 
mothers  had  done  upon  nearly  every  subject.  Life  was  not  an 
art  —  and  a  very  difficult  art  —  much  too  difficult  to  be  acquired 
in  a  lifetime;  it  was  a  science  of  which  we  were  consummate 
masters."     {Life  and  Habit,  page  60.) 

And  yet,  Butler  has  just  pointed  out  that  unless  we  have 
maintained  our  own  personal  identity  throughout  the  ex- 
periences of  our  forefathers,  those  experiences  will  in  no 
way  profit  us. 

On  his  own  showing  this  must  be  so.  Equally  on  his 
showing  it  is  difficult  to  see  how  it  can  be.  For,  throughout 
the  entire  argument  the  individual  is  identified  with  his 
own  experiences  after  birth  and  with  his  own  and  his  par- 
ents' memories  before.  (Their  experience  as  individuals 
is  presumably  what  he  does  not  share. )  All  his  embryonic 
experiences  are  "  vicarious,"  and  more  vicarious  his  experi- 
ences further  back.  At  the  same  time  he  is  said  to  have 
"  participated  "  in  these  experiences.  The  trouble  is  that 
when  Butler  talks  about  a  man's  being  identified  with 
his  parents  he  does  not  seem  to  have  considered  all  that  is 
implied  in  identification.  A  is  identical  with  B  in  this 
that  B  is  identical  with  A.  If  a  man  is  identified  with 
his  grandfather  his  grandfather  must  be  identified  with 
him.  But,  according  to  Butler,  identification  is  a  lop- 
sided affair  in  which  A  persists  and  B  disappears,  while 
everything  depended  upon  B's  persistence.  So  where,  by 
what  chink,  does  "  he  "  come  in  ?  And  in  what  cranny 
does  he  lodge  ?  If  the  most  that  he  can  show  for  himself 
is  this  cellular,  prenatal  existence  in  the  bodies  of  his 
parents  and  his  grand-parents  and  of  all  his  countless  an- 
cestors, each  of  whom  must  have  enjoyed  precisely  the 
same  sort  of  existence  in  the  bodies  of  their  parents  and 
ancestors,  we  are  still  no  nearer  the  secret  of  his  being. 
Granted  that  he  thus  participated  in  each  and  all  of  their 
experiences  in  his  primordial  cellular  way,  still  the  man- 
ner of  his  participation  remains  mysterious,  even  if  we  as- 


22  A  DEFENCE  OF  IDEALISM 

sume,  as  we  perfectly  well  may,  a  most  extraordinary  ca- 
pacity for  participation  and  for  storage  of  experiences  in 
the  cell. 

How  are  we  to  imagine  participation  —  practical  and 
intelligent  participation,  such  as  will  enable  him  to  per- 
form creditably  a  series  of  complicated  co-ordinated  ac- 
tions as  soon  as  he  is  born  —  without  a  participator  ? 

Butler's  arguments  are  unanswerable.  We  cannot  ex- 
plain or  account  for  the  most  ordinary  facts  of  our  life  and 
consciousness  without  presupposing  that  we  have  lived  and 
been  conscious  before. 

And  yet  there  is  not  one  of  his  unanswerable  arguments 
that  cannot  be  turned  against  his  own  conception  of  Per- 
sonal Identity. 

Unless  the  Individual  carried  through  all  his  previous 
experiences  some  personal  identity  over  arid  above  that  of 
his  progenitors,  their  experience  will  remain  theirs  and  be 
no  earthly  good  to  him.  For  he  could  not  profit  by  it  to 
the  extent  he  has  been  proved  to  have  profited,  if,  at  every 
stage  of  his  past  career,  he  had  not  been  capable  of  absorb- 
ing and  assimilating  it  —  of  taking  it  to  himself.  There- 
fore he  must  have  a  self,  a  continuous,  indestructible  self, 
distinct  from  his  progenitors'  selves,  yet  in  direct  commu- 
nion with  them,  to  take  it  to. 

It  is  precisely  that  self,  that  personal  identity  over  and 
above,  that  Butler  denies  to  him.  And  in  denying  it  to 
him  he  denies  it  equally  to  each  of  his  progenitors  all  along 
the  line.  There  is  none  to  participate  and  none  to  profit. 
Grant  him  that  self,  and  the  whole  process  of  evolution 
and  the  whole  problem  of  heredity  are  transparent  as  a 
pane  of  glass.  Deny  it  and  we  are  where  we  were  in  the 
dark  days  of  Darwinism.  But,  whereas  Darwin  and  Wal- 
lace at  least  left  us  free  to  take  what  Natural  Selection 
could  not  give  us,  what  Butler's  right  hand  gives  us  his 
left  hand  snatches  from  us  again. 

It  is  as  if  Buffon  and  Lamarck  had  opened  a  window  on 


PAN-PSYCHISM  OF  SAMUEL  BUTLER     23 

the  dark  side  of  our  house,  looking  towards  our  past.  And 
it  is  as  if  Butler  had  found  that  window  and  cleaned  it, 
and  made  it  bigger,  and  called  to  us  to  look  through,  and 
then,  in  sheer  perversity,  had  closed  and  darkened  it  be- 
fore we  could  look  again  and  be  sure  of  what  we  had  seen. 

Without  a  self,  over  and  above  organism,  over  and 
above  memory,  the  whole  series  of  past  memories  and  past 
experiences  is  unthinkable. 

Eor  we  start  with  an  individual.  Even  if  we  could 
conceive  him  maintaining  his  divided  identity  fairly  well 
in  the  persons  of  his  parents,  and  perhaps  of  his  grand- 
parents, what  of  the  generations  behind  them?  What  of 
his  infinite  division,  the  scattering  of  him,  the  indivisible, 
throughout  those  geometrically  increasing  multitudes  ? 

But  even  his  pre-existences  are  not  much  more  unthink- 
able than  the  poor  and  precarious  existence  which  is  all 
that  Butler  allows  him  as  an  individual  after  birth.  For 
if  it  is  not  quite  clear  how  he  persisted  in  his  parents,  and 
whether  anything  of  him  persisted  over  and  above  them 
at  all,  there  is  no  sort  of  doubt  as  to  how  his  parents  per- 
sist in  him  and  in  what  ravaging  and  overwhelming  pro- 
portion.2^ 

Could  there  be  a  more  shocking  irony  of  fate  than  that 
Butler,  who  did  more  to  destroy  the  prestige  of  parents 
than  any  writer  before  or  after  him,  who  so  abhorred  the 
idea  of  parentage  that  he  resisted  "  the  clamouriugs  of  the 
unborn  "  rather  than  commit  the  cruelty  of  giving  any 
child  a  father  however  much  it  might  desire  a  father  — 
could  there  be  a  more  shocking  irony  than  that  this  great 
repudiator  of  parents,  this  passionately  original  and  indi- 
vidual soul,  should  be  driven  by  his  own  terrible  logic  to 
identify  himself  indistinguishably  with  his  father  and  his 
mother  and  his  grandfather  and  his  grandmother,  and  so 
on  backwards  with  all  his  ancestors,  and  that  he  should 
have  regarded  the  life  identified  with  theirs  as  infinitely 
richer  and  more  important  than  anything  that  he  could 


24  A  DEFEI^CE  OF  IDEALISM 

claim  and  call  his  own  ?  Nor  could  he  have  answered  that 
he  only  objected  to  parents  as  individuals,  for  he  has  made 
it  clear  that  he  objected  to  them  most  emphatically  as 
parents;  so  that  this  plea  would  only  impair  his  logic 
without  diminishing  the  irony  of  his  case. 

Now,  I  think  it  can  be  shown  that  he  was  not  really 
driven  to  this  suicide,  but  that  it  happened  to  him  because 
he  put  the  cart  before  the  horse,  and  attached  personal 
identity  to  memory,  and  memory  to  organism,  instead  of 
attaching  both  to  personal  identity. 

All  the  same,  as  an  account  of  the  gathering  together  of 
memories,  and  of  the  apparent  miracles  of  psychic  syn- 
thesis performed  as  a  matter  of  course  by  every  living  or- 
ganism, as  a  view  of  evolution  which  makes  every  stage  in 
its  process  transparent  as  a  pane  of  glass,  Butler's  theory 
is  perfect.  It  is  a  clear  vision  of  all  life  as  one  organism 
and  of  that  organism  as  God.  That  he  could  not  allow 
God  to  be  anything  over  and  above  an  organism,  and  was 
pained  by  the  merest  suggestion  that  he  might  possibly  be 
more,  was  the  logical  consequence  of  his  refusal  to  admit 
that  the  Self  could  be  anything  over  and  above  its  mem- 
ories. This  consistency  should  not  be  charged  too  heavily 
against  him.  Nor  can  we  hope  to  substitute  anything 
clearer  for  that  clear  vision  of  his. 

Let  us  see  whether  we  cannot  keep  it  intact  while  adding 
to  it  the  very  factor  that  Butler  left  out  of  the  account. 

The  problem  of  the  relation  of  psyche  to  organism 
would  be  comparatively  simple  if  living  beings  descended 
from  one  parent.  It  is  obvious  that  we  are  following  up, 
not  one  thread  but  two  threads,  each  of  which  is  soon  lost 
in  a  multiplying  network  of  threads;  and  we  must  faith- 
fully concede  the  self  to  be  present  in  each  and  all  of  them 
if  it  is  to  gather  together  the  experience  which  will  enable 
it  to  burst  on  the  world  as  an  expert  in  psychic  and  bio- 
logical behaviour.     Could  anything  well  be  more  unthink- 


PAN-PSYCHISM  OF  SAMUEL  BUTLER     25 

able  than  a  theory  which  compels  us  to  this  vision  of  self- 
hood maintained  in  such  a  multiplicity  as  that  ?  Identity 
where  all  identity  is  lost  ?  Were  we  not  better  off  with 
the  old  simple  idea  of  hereditary  transmission  which  we 
had  accepted  before  Samuel  Butler  came  among  us  to  dis- 
turb our  peace  ? 

Well  —  wei^e  we  ? 

We  have  an  idea,  a  vague  idea,  it  is  true,  but  still  an 
idea  of  the  unity  of  individual  consciousness,  of  the  hold- 
ing together  in  one  synthesis  of  a  multiplicity  of  states, 
and  even  this  idea  does  little  justice  to  the  astounding 
complexity  of  that  synthesis.  It  is  identity  in  multiplic- 
ity with  a  vengeance. 

But  we  have  7io  idea  at  all  of  how  hereditary  instincts 
are  transmitted.  The  physical  theory  of  the  transaction 
leaves  the  essence  of  the  thing  —  its  psychic  complexity  — 
untouched.  The  idea  that  a  complicated  system  of  ex- 
periences can  be  handed  over  as  it  stands  to  a  psyche  inno- 
cent of  all  experiences,  and  used  by  that  psyche,  instantly, 
with  the  virtuosity  of  an  expert,  is  about  as  thinkable  as 
the  idea  that  the  Central  London  telegraph  and  telephone 
system  could  be  handed  over  to  and  successfully  worked 
by  a  single  operator  ignorant  of  the  first  principles  of 
telegraphy. 

Of  the  two  I  would  back  the  operator. 

You  do  not  make  it  a  bit  more  thinkable  by  regarding 
the  heritage  as  accumulated  by  imperceptible  increments 
from  generation  to  generation,  since  in  the  last  resort  the 
whole  of  it  has  to  be  handed  over  en  hloc. 

1  said  it  would  be  simpler  if  living  beings  were  de- 
scended each  from  one  parent.  And,  as  it  happens,  if  we 
follow  it  far  enough  back,  the  bewildering  process  simpli- 
fies itself,  since  eventually  we  do  trace  them  all  to  one. 

Supposing  that  we  turn  from  our  present  and  our  future 
and  set  our  faces  backwards,  and  imagine  that  network  of 
the  generations  —  ow  generations  —  spread  out  before  us 


26  A  DEFENCE  OF  IDEALISM 

and  streaming  away  from  us  to  our  past,  and  that  we  hold 
the  hither  end  of  it  by  the  single  thread  of  self.  The  net- 
work is  broken  in  many  places  where  individuals  have  re- 
mained single  and  left  no  issue,  and  where  whole  families 
and  species  have  dropped  out.  But,  on  the  whole,  it  is  a 
comparatively  continuous  network.  If  we  could  follow  all 
the  unbroken  threads  of  all  the  meshes  to  their  beginning 
on  the  farther  end  of  the  net,  we  should  find  them  all 
united  again  in  one  thread,  one  single  living  being.  A  be- 
ing of  extreme  primordial  simplicity,  but  not  simpler  or 
more  primordial  than  our  own  very  complicated  organism 
was  when  it  began  as  a  single  germ-plasm. 

And  thus  the  Individual  that  we  saw  so  scattered  has 
become  one  again.  Somewhere,  in  some  time  and  earthly 
place,  he  and  all  the  individuals  he  sprang  from  have  ex- 
isted in  some  relation  to  one  simple,  indestructible,  pri- 
mordial speck  of  protoplasm. 

What  is  the  nature  of  that  relation  ? 

Only  five  relations  are  possible. 

1.  We  may  suppose  that  the  speck  of  protoplasm  pro- 
duces the  personality,  and  in  reproducing  itself  produces 
another  personality;  and  that  reproduction  of  organism 
and  production  of  personality  go  on  till  we  come  to  repro- 
duction through  the  union  of  two  primordial  cells,  which 
so  far  from  altering  the  essential  nature  of  the  process 
only  knits  it  tighter.  This  process  of  reproduction,  which 
is  what  actually  happens  on  the  physical  side  —  on  the 
part  of  the  organism  —  is,  on  the  psychic  side,  unthink- 
able because  open  to  all  the  objections  which  have  been 
brought  against  the  theory  of  transmission.  That  is  to 
say,  a  personality  which  has  been  produced  brand-new  with 
each  organism,  hj  each  organism,  has  ipso  facto  been  ab- 
sent from  the  past  experiences  it  is  supposed  to  profit  by. 
To  say  nothing  of  the  enormous  difficulty  of  conceiving  the 
production  of  a  psyche,  a  consciousness,  from  a  speck  of 


PAE'-PSYCHISM  OF  SAMUEL  BUTLER     27 

protoplasm  by  a  speck  of  protoplasm.     A  difficulty  which 
will  meet  us  again. 

2.  Or  we  may  suppose  that  all  the  innumerable  per- 
sonalities that  have  been  and  shall  be  are  present  some- 
how with  or  in  that  one  original  speck  of  protoplasm,  and 
are  simply  transplanted  with  or  into  succeeding  specks  of 
protoplasm  as  they  multiply,  and  are  developed  with  the 
development  of  the  organisms.  This  theory  would  ac- 
count all  right  for  the  sharing  of  the  experiences,  but  it 
may  be  dismissed  as  putting  rather  too  great  a  strain  on 
one  small  speck  of  protoplasm. 

3.  We  may  suppose  that  the  burden  of  reproducing  its 
own  kind  is  borne  by  the  self,  and  that  it  takes  an  even 
share  in  the  labour  of  a  psycho-physical  association,  each 
self  looking  after  its  own  future  development,  the  business 
of  the  protoplasm  being  limited  to  producing  more  proto- 
plasm and  building  itself  up  into  organic  forms.  This 
theory  ignores  the  influence  of  the  organism,  through 
which  the  self  gains  its  experiences  and  therewith  its  de- 
velopment, and  the  influence  of  the  self  by  which  the 
organism  is  built  into  just  such  forms  as  are  adapted  to 
the  needs  and  the  ends  of  the  self.  We  are  not  helped  by 
any  theory  of  the  mere  production  of  self  by  self.  For, 
again,  unless  some  portion  of  the  original  self  endures  in 
the  selves  it  produces  it  cannot  impart  to  them  its  own 
experience  or  benefit  by  theirs.  And  unless  the  selves* — 
again  —  have  been  present  with  it  in  all  its  past  experi- 
ence, they  cannot  share  and  benefit  by  it. 

4.  Let  us  suppose,  then,  that  the  greater  strain  (which 
is,  after  all,  a  purely  metaphysical  one),  is  borne  by  this 
hypothetical  self;  that  the  self  and  not  the  protoplasm 
contains  within  itself  all  selves  that  are  and  shall  be,  and 
that  the  relation  of  the  self  to  the  original  speck  of  proto- 
plasm, and  to  all  succeeding  organisms  throughout  all  gen- 
erations, is  that  of  the  association  of  an  undivided,  unap- 


28  A  DEFENCE  OF  IDEALISM 

parent  being  with  the  means  of  its  division  and  appear- 
ances. We  have  here  a  much  more  workable  conception 
of  the  self,  inasmuch  as  our  difficulties  are  shifted  to  the 
metaphysical  sphere  where  anything  may  happen.  Some 
awkward  things  are  bound  to  happen  to  an  unapparent 
metaphysical  being  when  once  for  all  it  makes  up  its  mind 
to  appear.  Still,  they  need  not  be  too  awkward.  On  this 
theory  the  integrity  of  the  original  self  must  suffer 
severely  if  it  does  not  endure  throughout  all  its  multiplied 
experiences,  that  is  to  say,  if  it  is  lost  in  the  multiplicity 
of  selves ;  and  the  integrity  of  the  selves  suffers  if  they  are 
lost  in  it. 

Either,  then,  there  is  no  such  thing  as  the  integrity  of 
the  self,  or : 

6.  Each  self  is  something  over  and  above  all  other 
selves ;  over  and  above  its  own  organism  and  all  organisms 
in  which  it  has  had  part ;  over  and  above  its  own  experi- 
ences and  memories  gained  through  association  with  all 
the  organisms.  Until  they  are  actually  born  as  individu- 
als the  selves  will  be  members  of  many  groups,  associated 
through  the  organisms  they  share,  in  such  sort  that  the  ex- 
periences and  the  resulting  benefits  are  mutual.  !N"either 
experience  nor  benefit  being  obtainable  unless  "we  presup- 
pose in  each  self  a  "  personal  identity  "  over  and  above  all 
other  selves  in  its  own  organism. 

On  this  hypothesis,  which  I  believe  to  be  the  one  in 
strictest  accordance  with  the  theory  of  Pan-Psychism,  the 
relation  of  self  to  organism  will  be  by  no  means  the  simple 
affair  of  one  self,  one  organism,  but  will  stand  somewhat 
thus.  At  one  end  of  the  scale,  entire  ovnaership  of  the 
first  speck  of  protoplasm  which  it  finds  itself  associated 
with,  in  the  sense  of  one  self,  one  organism.  At  the 
other  end  of  the  scale,  practically  entire  ownership  of 
the  organism  it  is  born  with  as  an  Individual.  In  be- 
tween, starting  from  below  upwards,  half  ownership  of 


PAN-PSYCHISM  OF  SAMUEL  BUTLER     29 

two  specks  of  protoplasm,  supposing  the  original  speck  to 
have  split  up  into  two,  and  to  have  taken  up  with  two  other 
selves;  ownership  of  one-fourth  of  each  member  of  the 
next  two  pairs  similarly  formed;  ownership  of  one-eighth 
in  the  four  succeeding  pairs,  and  of  one-sixteenth  in  the 
next  subdivision;  and  so  on  till  his  share  diminishes  to  a 
thousand  millionth  part,  say,  in  a  thousand  million  or- 
ganisms. 

But  always,  through  all  his  thousand  million  incarna- 
tions, his  thousand  million  shares  in  other  people's  under- 
takings, though  his  experiences  are  scattered  and  sub- 
divided, he  is  never  lost. 

He  is  only  lost  if,  with  Samuel  Butler,  we  insist  on 
identifying  him  with  his  business  and  his  innumerable 
partners  in  the  business,  and  ignoring  his  constant  and 
indestructible  presence.  He  is  only  scattered  and  divided 
if  we  think  of  him,  not  in  his  own  metaphysical  (or  for 
the  matter  of  that  metapsychical)  temis,  but  in  terms  of 
protoplasm.  You  might  just  as  well  think  of  him  in  terms 
of  the  colour  that  would  indicate  his  presence  in  a  diagram. 

As  for  his  infinitesimal  share,  it  is  decidedly  better, 
from  his  point  of  view,  to  hold  an  infinitesimal  share  in 
an  infinitely  great  undertaking  than  to  be  entire  owner 
of  one  speck  of  protoplasm. 

As  we  have  seen,  the  most  awful  consequences,  for  the 
Individual,  follow  if  we  hold  the  theory  of  heredity  pre- 
cisely as  Samuel  Butler  held  it.  I  do  not  see  how  they 
are  to  be  avoided  as  long  as  we  persist  in  identifying  the 
self  with  its  memories  and  with  the  organism  by  means  of 
which  it  acquires  them.  On  the  other  hand,  it  must  be  ad- 
mitted that  the  difficulties  of  the  hypothesis  of  independent 
selfhood  are  gi-eat.  But  I  do  not  believe  them  to  be 
insuperable,  if  we  bear  in  mind  that  selfhood  is  not  neces- 
sarily interchangeable  with  "  individuality,"  or  numerical 
personal  identity  in  the  sense  of  one  inhabitant  of  one  body. 


30  A  DEFENCE  OF  IDEALISM 

In  that  sense  an  individual  is  not  an  individual  until  he  is 
born,  and  in  any  case  our  bodies  may  very  likely  have  more 
psychic  inhabitants  than  ourselves. 

It  may  be  objected  that  on  this  view  of  the  self  the 
origin  of  its  own  and  of  all  succeeding  organisms  looks  a 
bit  inadequate.  But  if  its  own  original  and  indestructible 
germ-plasm  was,  as  it  certainly  seems  to  have  been,  a  suf- 
ficient organism,  to  begin  with,  for  a  self  that  has  drawn 
together  innumerable  past  memories,  why  should  not  the 
original  speck  of  protoplasm  be  an  organism  sufficient  to 
begin  with  for  a  self  that  harbours  innumerable  future 
possibilities  ?  If  we  conceive  of  the  organism  as  nothing 
more  or  less  essential  to  the  self  than  its  means  of  appear- 
ing, of  manifesting  itself,  we  do  greatly  simplify  the  prob- 
lem of  their  relation,  that  everlasting  subject  of  contention 
for  biologists  and  psychologists  and  philosophers. 

Let  us  think,  then,  of  the  self's  relation  to  its  organism 
as  the  seeking,  finding,  possession,  and  more  and  more  per- 
fect use  of  a  means  to  manifestation.  Obviously,  it  can 
only  manifest  itself  through  its  behaviour  and  its  experi- 
ences. Instantly,  then,  it  begins  to  behave  and  to  experi- 
ence. Even  at  this  very  earliest  point  in  its  extraordinary 
career,  it  knows  how  to  behave  and  to  experience.  The 
first  experience  of  any  account  that  comes  to  it  is  when  it 
finds  that  the  original  speck  of  protoplasm,  sufficient  for  a 
start,  is  absurdly  insufficient  to  carry  on  with.  (If  we 
like,  we  may  imagine  that  other  selves,  baffled  by  this  in- 
sufficiency, have  given  up  their  protoplasms  in  disgust, 
but  that  our  self  is  more  patient  and  more  adventurous.) 
So,  in  obedience  to  its  inner  urging,  the  speck  of  proto- 
plasm grows. 

But  still  this  humble  self-contained  existence  cannot  sat- 
isfy its  unquenchable  longing  to  appear. 

And  so,  it  compels  its  organism  to  reproduce  itself,  and 


PAN-PSYCHISM  OF  SAMUEL  BUTLER     31 

the  first  Scattering  begins.  Only  by  scattering,  by  inces- 
sant subdivision,  can  it  acquire  sufficient  experience  and 
sufficient  practice  in  behaviour  to  fit  it  for  the  life  it  is  to 
lead,  the  really  personable  appearance  it  is  ultimately  to 
present.  When  the  self  has  acquired  enough  animal  ex- 
periences, and  enough  practice  in  animal  behaviour,  and  an 
organism  so  obedient  to  animal  promptings  that  it  can  be 
trusted  to  run  itself  without  perpetual  interference  from 
higher  authority,  then  and  not  till  then,  it  becomes  human. 
Literally,  we  can  only  do  our  work  as  men  because,  as 
Samuel  Butler  has  shown,  we  have  done  all  the  animal 
part  of  it  for  ourselves  so  efficiently  in  the  past.  Just 
imagine  how  we  should  get  on  if,  before  we  could  cook 
our  dinner  and  while  we  were  eating  it,  we  had  to  give  our 
personal  attention  to  each  one  of  our  visceral  functions 
separately;  if  in  order  to  digest  we  had  to  superintend 
our  digestion,  or  in  order  to  breathe  we  had  to  superintend 
our  breathing.  Or  if  in  order  to  fight  we  had  to  see  to  the 
working  of  each  separate  unit  of  the  fighting  machine 
which  is  our  body.  Or  if  in  order  to  write  a  poem  (I  do 
not  want  to  labour  my  instances,  but  the  case  of  the  poem- 
writer  has  points  of  special  psychological  importance),  if 
in  order  to  write  a  poem  we  had  to  superintend  each  sep- 
arate operation^  of  our  hand,  each  separate  operation  of  our 
brain,  to  turn  back  on  our  path  in  time  to  recover  all  our 
meanings,  to  travel  in  space  to  find  and  capture  the  loveli- 
ness we  know.  We  can  understand  the  why  and  wherefore 
of  the  process  of  our  evolution  when  we  reflect  that  all  the 
selves  that  we  have  ever  been,  that  we  have  put  under  us  in 
the  successive  stages  of  our  ascension,  are  working  for  us 
now,  clearing  up  all  the  troublesome  and  boresome  jobs 
we  are  tired  of  and  so  repudiate,  and  leaving  us  free  for 
our  ovm  affairs,  the  work  of  the  proud  individuality  we 
now  are. 

Whatever  he  may  have  been  and  is,  the  scattered  one  does 


32  A  DEFENCE  OF  IDEALISM 

not  and  cannot  appear  as  a  complete  and  full-blown  Indi- 
vidual until  he  has  made  up  his  mind  once  for  all  to  gather 
himself  together  and  be  born. 

And  this  presumably  is  precisely  what  he  has  done. 
Therefore,  throughout  all  the  generations  he  has  existed  as 
want,  striving,  desire,  will-to-live,  to  burst  forth  and  be 
born.  If  we  were  puzzled  about  the  striving  of  the  One 
to  become  Many,  what  about  this  striving  of  the  Many  to 
become  One  ? 


II 

The  question  now  arises:  What  of  his  immortality? 
Is  this  outcome  of  his  supreme  effort  his  one  and  only  ap- 
pearance as  an  individual  ?  Does  he  scatter  himself  again 
in  his  descendants  and  find  his  immortality  only  in  them  ? 
Has  he  come  to  nothing  if  he  leaves  no  descendants  ? 

'Now  on  Butler's  theory,  which  identifies  the  individual 
with  his  own  organism  and  his  own  parents,  he  has  no  im- 
mortality of  his  own,  only  a  scattered  and  vicarious  life 
after  death  in  the  persons  of  his  descendants  (if  he  has 
any)  ;  only  a  subjective  immortality  in  the  memory  of  pos- 
terity, if  he  has  had  sufficient  forcefulness  to  impress  pos- 
terity. In  fact,  on  Butler's  theory,  his  chances  of  exist- 
ing as  an  individual  in  the  first  place,  of  ever  being  born 
at  all,  depend  on  circumstances  over  which  he  has  no  con- 
trol. For  all  Butler's  belief  that  it  is  "  the  clamouring  of 
the  unborn  "  that  is  responsible  for  each  individual  exist- 
ence, so  that  the  entire  culpability  of  the  enterprise  rests 
with  the  unborn,  and  no  child  has  a  right  to  blame  its 
parents  if  the  enterprise  should  turn  out  badly,  still,  as  the 
potential  parent  can  and  frequently  does  turn  a  deaf  ear  to 
the  clamouring,  the  actual  decision  rests  with  him.  And 
his  refusal,  or  the  mere  accident  of  his  death,  even  if  he  is 
well-intentioned,  dooms  untold  millions  of  personalities  to 
extinction. 


PAN-PSYCHISM  OF  SAMUEL  BUTLER     33 

The  individual,  then,  has  but  one  chance  of  existence  to 
several  million  chances  of  extinction,  and  he  has  no  pos- 
sible prospect  of  any  immortality  that  counts.  And,  if  we 
narrow  him  down  to  his  bare  achievements  as  an  individual, 
the  small  experience  he  acquires  for  himself  in  his  short 
life-time,  compared  with  his  immense  accumulations  in  the 
persons  of  his  progenitors,  doesn't  really  amount  to  a  row 
of  pins;  so  that  existence  itself,  when  it  does  happen  to 
him,  hardly  seems  worth  the  trouble  of  being  bom.  Why 
all  those  tremendous  labours  of  the  generations  for  such  a 
poor  result?  Why  all  those  strivings  and  longings  to  be 
made  manifest  for  such  a  pitiful  appearance  at  the  end  ? 
If  you  say  it  is  all  for  the  Race  and  not  for  the  individual, 
and  that  the  individual  only  exists  in  and  for  the  Race, 
that  doesn't  make  the  affair  a  bit  more  intelligible  or  a  bit 
better. 

In  fact  it  makes  it  worse,  for  we  are  sacrificing  a  reality, 
a  poor,  perishing  reality,  but  still  a  reality  for  as  long  as 
it  lasts,  to  an  abstraction.  For  what  is  the  Race  but  an  ab- 
straction, if  it  is  not  the  sum  of  the  individuals  that  com- 
pose it  ?  And  for  the  matter  of  that,  races  themselves  are 
doomed  ultimately  to  extinction. 

It  may  be  so,  and  if  it  is  so  we  must  bear  it;  for  we 
cannot  help  it.  But  we  are  only  driven  to  the  conclusion 
that  it  is  so  if  we  accept  Butler's  view  of  personal  identity, 
or  the  view  of  all  those  persons  who,  on  this  point  at  any 
rate,  are  agreed  to  agree  with  him. 

If  it  can  be  shown,  in  the  first  place,  that  the  achieve- 
ments of  the  Individual  are  not  quite  so  insignificant  as 
has  been  made  out;  and  in  the  second  place,  that,  so  far 
from  personal  identity  being  dependent  on  memory  (and 
ultimately  on  organism),  memory  (and  organism  ulti- 
mately) are  dependent  on  personal  identity,  to  the  extent 
that  not  the  simplest  fact  of  consciousness,  and  not  the 
simplest  operation  of  building  up  a  primordial  germ-cell, 
is  possible  without  the  presupposition  of  personal  identity ; 


34  A  DEFENCE  OF  IDEALISM 

if  further,  there  is  even  the  ghost  of  a  reason  for  inferring, 
in  the  absence  of  any  other  assignable  cause,  that  the  mys- 
terious thing  we  call  Personality  behaves  as  we  know 
causes  do  and  can  behave,  then,  though  immortality  will 
not  follow  as  an  absolutely  certain  conclusion  (how  could 
it  ?)  there  will  at  least  be  a  very  strong  presumption  in  its 
favour.  Whether  there  will  be  evidence  to  satisfy  the 
authority  whom  Butler  called  "  any  reasonable  person " 
is  another  thing.  People  show  their  reasonableness  in 
such  different  ways. 

Even  from  the  foregoing  brief  review  of  the  latest  find- 
ings of  Psychoanalysis  it  must  have  been  obvious  that  they 
are  the  corollary  of  the  conclusions  Samuel  Butler  drew 
from  the  processes  of  evolution.  It  is  not  necessary  to  go 
over  all  that  old  ground  again  in  order  to  point  out  the 
correlations.  The  reader  cannot  have  failed  to  identify 
that  need  or  want,  which  Butler  traces  for  us  as  the  spring 
of  all  evolution,  with  the  Will-to-live,  the  "  libido  "  which 
the  psychoanalysts  have  traced  for  us  as  the  source  of  all 
life  and  the  spring  of  sublimation.  Only  when  it  comes 
to  the  relative  value  of  racial  and  individual  qualities,  of 
unconscious  and  of  conscious  being,  do  the  psychoanalysts 
part  company  with  Samuel  Butler. 

First  of  all  then,  if  they  did  not  openly  declare  the  su- 
preme importance  of  the  individual,  they  showed  us  that 
his  grown-up  individuality,  be  its  quality  what  it  may,  is 
a  far  more  highly  sublimated  thing  than  the  bundle  of 
racial  functions  and  qualities  he  "  inherits."  To  say  that 
I  am  inferior  to  my  own  grandmother,  as  I  very  well  may 
be,  simply  means  that  my  grandmother  was  the  superior 
individual,  that  is  to  say  that  the  functions  and  qualities 
that  distinguished  her  from  her  progenitors  had  a  higher 
sublimative  value  than  the  functions  and  qualities  that  dis- 
tinguish me,  not  that  the  functions  and  qualities  she,  in 
common  with  all  my  other  ancestors,  bequeathed  to  me  are 
more  highly  sublimated  than  mine.     Yet,  wretched  indi- 


PAN-PSYCHISM  OF  SAMUEX  BUTLER     35 

vidual  that  I  am,  coarse  where  she  was  fine,  most  stupid 
where  she  was  most  intelligent,  ungraceful  and  unlovely 
where  she  was  all  grace  and  all  beauty,  still,  by  the  one  fact 
that  I  refused  to  be  submerged  by  my  racial  qualities  and 
functions,  that  I  lifted  my  head  above  the  generations  and 
added  another  living  being,  another  desire,  another  will, 
another  experience  to  the  sum  of  human  experiences,  by 
the  mere  fact  that,  after  all,  here  I  am,  playing  my  part 
and  not  any  of  their  parts,  I  prove  the  superiority  (as  far 
as  it  goes)  of  my  sublimation. 

Besides,  if  it  comes  to  that,  who  is  to  say  whether  these 
undesired  and  undesirable  traits  of  mine  are  really  mine 
and  not  part  of  my  "  inheritance  "  ? 

It  is  when  I  fall  short  of  my  part,  when  I  return  on  my 
path  and  go  hack  to  them,  or  when  I  simply  refuse  to  grow 
up  and  persist  in  being  a  child,  and  not  a  very  enterprising, 
or  intelligent,  or  original  child  at  that,  it  is  when,  in  four 
words,  I  resign  my  individuality,  that  I  become  inferior. 
And  the  one  word  for  it  is  Degeneration. 

To  be  degenerate  is  to  fail  to  add  the  priceless  gift  of  in- 
dividuality to  the  achievement  of  the  race.  (Therefore 
it  seems  an  inappropriate  word  to  apply  to  those  very  con- 
siderable individuals  who  have  given  their  priceless  gift  in 
the  form  of  genius,  however  far  they  may  have  fallen  short 
of  the  ethics  of  the  family  and  the  crowd,  and  supposing 
this  falling  short  to  be  a  more  frequent  attribute  of  "  true 
genius  "  than  it  actually  is.  We  may  suppose  that  this 
failure  in  one  direction  is  the  price  they  have  to  pay  for 
their  supremacy  in  another ;  and  posterity  that  benefits  by 
their  loss  should  be  the  last  to  remember  it  against  them. 
As  a  matter  of  fact,  in  spite  of  the  efforts  of  biographers  to 
fix  it  firmly  in  its  mind,  posterity  very  seldom  does  remem- 
ber it  at  all.)  And  if  it  comes  to  that,  what  debt  can  the 
individual  owe  to  the  race  that  is  greater  than  the  debt  the 
race  owes  to  the  individual  ?  What,  after  all,  was  the  ori- 
gin of  our  much-valued,  much-talked-about  racial  character- 


36  A  DEFENCE  OF  IDEALISM 

istics  ?  The  instinct  of  self-sublimation,  the  desire  and  sub- 
sequent effort  of  certain  enterprising  individuals  to  outdo 
themselves,  to  be  something  that  they  are  not  yet,  some- 
thing, however  small,  that  their  progenitors  were  not. 
Think  of  the  enterprise  (compared  with  foregoing  enter- 
prises), the  daring  originality  of  the  creature  that  first 
"  improvised "  a  stomach  because  it  wanted  one.  Can 
you  deny  an  individuality,  and,  all  things  considered,  a 
very  startling  individuality  to  that  creature?  And  to  go 
back  to  our  much-valued,  much-talked-about,  and  possibly 
overrated  progenitors,  every  single  one  of  them  was  an  in- 
dividual once;  and  his  value  for  posterity  was  chiefly  his 
individuality;  if  he  only  showed  it  in  the  choice  he  made 
of  one  female  rather  than  another  for  his  mate.  Indi- 
viduals, in  their  successive  (and  successful)  sublimations, 
raised  the  primordial  will-to-live  from  the  level  of  mere 
need  and  want,  through  the  stages  of  desire,  to  those  su- 
preme expressions  of  individuality  —  love  and  will. 

There  is  too  much  talk  about  the  Eace.  The  race  is 
nothing  but  the  sum  of  the  individuals  that  compose  and 
have  composed  it,  and  will  compose  it.  N"ot  only  so,  but, 
without  the  individuality,  the  very  marked  and  eccentric 
individuality  of  individuals,  races  and  the  Race  itself 
would  not  exist.  It  is  the  outstanding  individuals,  the 
"  sports,"  that  have  been  the  pioneers  of  evolution.  They 
have  enriched  and  raised  the  species  by  compelling  it  to 
adopt  their  characteristics. 

And  yet  it  looks  as  if  in  the  welter  of  unconscious  and 
subconscious  memories  and  instincts  the  individual  had 
little,  if  anything,  that  he  could  call  his  own.  He  is 
dwarfed  to  utter  insignificance  by  the  immensity  of  his 
ancestral  heritage.  But  I  do  not  think  we  have  to  choose 
between  the  views  of  the  comparative  value  of  the  Indi- 
vidual and  the  Race  and  the  comparative  amounts  of 
their  respective  debts  to  each  other,  for  we  cannot  separate 
them.     Our  problem  is  more  fundamental. 


PAN-PSYCHISM  OF  SAMUEL  BUTLER     37 

We  have  to  choose  between  a  difficult  (I  admit  it  is  a 
very  difficult)  theory  of  the  continuous  identity  of  one 
self  in  many  organisms,  associated  for  a  while  with  the 
equally  continuous  identity  of  many  selves  to  one  organism, 
and  a  self-contradictory  theory  which  insists  on  continuous 
memory  as  the  clue  to  the  mystery  of  the  individual's  past 
evolution,  and  yet  regards  him  as  a  momentary,  insignifi- 
cant spark  of  consciousness  struck  out  from  the  impact  of 
the  masses  of  rolled-up  unconscious  memories ;  each  indi- 
vidual, in  the  series  of  generations  that  come  together  to 
form  the  masses,  being  himself  such  a  momentary  insig- 
nificant spark.  At  this  rate  continuous  consciousness,  that 
is  to  say,  continuous  memory,  vanishes  from  the  whole  per- 
formance. 

Between  difficulty  and  self-contradiction  there  can  be 
only  one  choice.  The  alternative  to  the  spark  theory  is  not 
handicapped  by  any  inherent  contradiction.  The  indi- 
vidual's heritage  is  his,  if  we  allow  him,  not  only  that 
"  sense  of  need  "  which  Lamarck  and  Buffon  allowed  him, 
and  that  "  little  dose  of  judgment  and  reason "  which 
Huber  claimed  for  his  insects  and  Samuel  Butler  claimed 
for  all  organisms,  but  "  a  little  dose  "  of  selfhood  over  and 
above  his  sense  of  need,  over  and  above  reason  and  judg- 
ment, over  and  above  memory.  The  Individual  is  not  his 
heritage.  His  heritage  is  his.  It  is  the  stuff  he  works 
with  and  sublimates  and  transforms ;  it  is  the  ladder  he  has 
raised  himself  by,  the  territory  he  has  conquered  —  or  it 
is  nothing. 

There  is,  of  course,  that  alternative. 

Can  we  justify  our  assumption  that  selfhood  is  over  and 
above  ? 

'Now  there  is  a  very  strong  consensus  of  opinion  among 
psychologists  and  "  mental  philosophers  "  that  Personal 
Identity  does  depend,  and  depend  absolutely  upon  Memory. 
So  strong  that  I  have  considerable  qualms  about  putting 


S 


>-'  f\  f-  Q 


38  A  DEFENCE  OF  IDEALISM 

forth  any  opinion  that  runs  counter  to  that  consensus.  It 
is  strongest  among  those  who,  like  Mr.  William  James,  M. 
Bergson,  and  Mr.  McDougall,  by  no  ineans  regard  mind  as 
entirely  dependent  on  its  physical  basis.  It  is  upheld  by 
arguments  that  appear  at  first  sight  to  be  unanswerable, 
and  that  on  no  theory  should  be  lightly  set  aside. 

So  far,  I  have  been  going  all  along  on  the  assumption 
that  we  conceive  Personal  Identity  as  something  which, 
whatever  its  ultimate  nature  may  be,  "  holds  consciousness 
together."  We  must  not  assume  the  thing  we  have  got  to 
prove;  so  we  cannot  take  for  granted  that  what  we  call 
Personal  Identity  amounts  to  anything  we  think  of  as  a 
substance,  or  a  self,  or  a  soul,  or  as  a  being  in  any  way 
separate  from  and  independent  of  consciousness.  For  all 
we  know,  it  may  be  no  more  than  the  relation  of  each  con- 
scious state  to  another  and  to  the  whole.  We  take  the 
term  as  equivalent  to  "  the  unity  of  consciousness."  Con- 
sciousness certainly  appears  to  be  a  unity,  whether  there  be 
a  self  to  make  it  one  or  no.  We  have  nothing  immediately 
before  us  but  states  of  consciousness,  yet  they  appear  to 
arrive  in  a  certain  order  and  to  hang  together  with  a  cer- 
tain cohesion  of  their  own.  Describe  consciousness  in 
terms  deliberately  chosen  so  as  to  exclude  the  Personality 
we  must  not  take  for  granted ;  say  that  its  states  are  only 
fortuitously  associated;  still,  association  involves,  perhaps 
I  ought  to  say  constitutes,  a  certain  unity.  Say  that  con- 
sciousness is  nothing  but  a  stream,  and  that  though  it  ap- 
pears to  have  islands  in  it,  the  islands  are  really  only  part 
of  the  stream ;  still  the  stream  would  not  be  a  stream  if  it 
had  not  a  certain  unity. 

It  must  be  borne  in  mind  that,  for  all  we  are  justified 
in  saying  about  it  beforehand,  this  unity  may  be  nothing 
more  than  the  relation  of  states  of  consciousness  among 
themselves.  But  when  we  have  reduced  consciousness  to 
the  simplest,  the  least  assuming  terms,  we  have  still  this 
unity  to  reckon  with.     Even  if  the  dream  of  Professor 


PAN-PSYCHISM  OF  SAMUEL  BUTLER     39 

Huxley  came  true,  and  the  "  mechanical  equivalent  of 
consciousness  "  were  found  to-morrow,  even  if  conscious- 
ness were  proved  to  be  nothing  but  a  strange  illusory  by- 
product of  the  brain,  the  queer  spectral  illusion  of  its  unity 
would  still  confront  us. 

And  here  is  my  opponent's  main  argument.  How,  on 
any  theory  of  consciousness,  could  these  appearances  be 
kept  up  without  memory  ?  If,  as  impression  supervened 
on  impression  (to  take  consciousness  at  its  "lowest"), 
each  were  instantly  effaced ;  if  we  forgot  our  states  of  con- 
sciousness —  I  mean  if  consciousness  forgot  its  states  —  as 
fast  as  they  occurred ;  that  is  to  say,  if  consciousness  kept 
on  continually  forgetting  itself;  if  there  were  no  sort  of 
even  illusory  registration  anywhere,  what  becomes  of  even 
that  illusory  unity?  And  what  on  earth  becomes  of  per- 
sonal identity,  supposing  there  was  such  a  thing  anyway  ? 
If  we  could  never  remember  anything  that  happened  to  us 
we  might  just  as  well  not  exist  at  all,  for  we  should  never 
be  conscious  of  our  existence.  Personal  identity  may  or 
may  not  be  provable,  but  without  memory  it  is  unthinkable. 

I  hope  the  adherents  of  memory  as  the  presupposition  of 
personal  identity  will  not  find  fault  with  this  way  of  put- 
ting it.  I  do  not  think  it  is  an  unfair  statement  of  their 
position.  I  do  not  want  to  weaken  their  position  in  order 
to  have  the  poor  pleasure  of  demolishing  it.  It  is  not  at 
all  easy  to  demolish.  And  perhaps  it  is  I  and  not  they  who 
are  responsible  for  the  only  palpable  flaw  in  it,  the  ulti- 
mate argument  ad  hominem;  for  it  is  clear  that  we  might 
exist  without  being  in  the  least  aware  of  our  existence ;  in 
fact,  that  is  the  way  most  of  us  do  exist;  it  may  even 
be  the  only  terms  on  which  it  is  possible  for  us  to  exist 
at  all.  I  think  there  is  something  in  the  point ;  but  let  it 
pass.  Let  the  case  stand  without  it.  Personal  identity 
may  or  may  not  be  provable ;  without  memory  it  is  unthink- 
able. 

But  —  is  it  ? 


40  A  DEFENCE  OF  IDEALISM 

It  may  be  that  neither  is  possible,  or  at  any  rate  actual, 
without  the  other.  But  thinkable  ?  If  you  can  prove  the 
existence  of  personal  identity,  of  a  self,  a  soul,  a  principle, 
call  it  what  you  like,  that  is  conscious,  but  is  not  conscious- 
ness, that  is  inseparably  present  to  all  its  states  of  con- 
sciousness and  identifiable  with  none  of  them,  unless  it  be 
with  the  act  of  will,  I  will  undertake  to  "  think  "  it. 

You  say  you  can  only  prove  it  from  consciousness,  that 
is  to  say,  from  memory.  Perhaps,  very  likely.  But  that 
is  only  saying  that  it  is  dependent  on  memory  for  its  con- 
sciousness, its  mode  of  existence,  not  that  it  is  dependent 
on  memory  for  existence  itself. 

We  have  just  seen  how  Samuel  Butler  landed  himself 
in  the  very  bosom  of  the  progenitors  he  abhorred,  as  well 
as  in  a  certain  amount  of  self-contradiction,  just  because 
he  would  insist  on  identifying  personality  with  memory. 
Even  the  "  plain  man  "  to  whose  common  sense  he  was  al- 
ways appealing,  could  have  told  him  better  than  that,  for 
the  plain  man  does  not  place  his  identity  in  the  fact 
that  such  and  such  things  happened  to  him  at  such  and  such 
a  date,  but  that  at  such  and  such  a  date  they  happened  to 
him,  to  such  and  such  a  person.  The  whole  point  and 
poignancy  of  their  happening,  and  of  his  remembering 
them,  is  that  they  happened  to  him,  and  not  to  another, 
and  that  he  and  not  another  remembered  them.  The  plain 
man  very  properly  assumes  that  he  has  a  self,  that  he 
personally  was  present  at  such  and  such  dates,  that  he  is 
personally  present  to  each  state  of  consciousness  as  it  arises, 
and  to  the  piling  up  of  each  state  on  another,  and  to  the 
whole. 

If  you  choose  to  say  that  he  himself  is  only  another  bit 
of  consciousness  added  to  the  pile  —  that  the  affirmation  of 
self-consciousness  comes  forever  and  from  moment  to  mo- 
ment to  the  top  —  that  is  a  theory  like  another.  But  I 
do  not  think  it  is  a  very  good  theory,  because  it  overlooks 
the  fact  that  he  was  at  the  bottom  too,  and  went  through  all 


PAN'-PSYCHISM  OF  SAMUEL  BUTLER     41 

the  layers.  And  most  certainly  the  plain  man  would  have 
none  of  it. 

But  let  us  say  that  personal  identity  presupposes  memory 
and  is  dependent  on  it.  Then  it  follows  rigorously  that 
whenever  we  forget  our  personal  identity  ceases.  It  goes 
out  for  long  hours  together  in  deep  sleep  when  we  have  no 
memory  and  no  consciousness  at  all.  And  it  comes  to  life 
again  with  the  return  of  consciousness  and  memory.  I 
am  afraid  I  do  not  see  anything  in  the  theory  of  its  inde- 
pendent existence  half  so  unthinkable  as  the  recurrent 
miracle  of  its  death  and  resurrection.^^  Let  alone 
the  inconvenience  of  not  knowing  whether  it  is  we 
who  have  come  back  and  not  somebody  else.  If  you  say 
we  do  know,  because  the  revived  memories  are  the  same, 
and  that  we  have  no  other  means  of  knowing,  the  an- 
swer is  that  in  the  first  place  we  do  not  know  that  they  are 
the  same,  and  in  the  second  place  that  they  are  not  the 
same ;  for  even  in  continuous  memory  all  we  get  is  a  suc- 
cession and  a  synthesis  of  states,  a  memory  of  a  memory, 
and  identity  of  them  there  is  none.  Sleep  has  so  divided 
to-day's  "  unity  of  consciousness  "  from  yesterday's  that  to 
talk  about  identity  of  states  is  absurd.  So  it  looks  as  if 
memory  and  unity  of  consciousness,  so  far  from  con- 
stituting personal  identity  depended  abjectedly  upon  it. 

And  are  we  so  very  sure  that  Personal  Identity  is  un- 
thinkable without  Memory  ? 

I  do  not  mean  merely  inconceivable  or  unimaginable.  I 
suppose,  for  that  matter,  we  can  conceive,  or  imagine,  or 
present  to  ourselves  any  state  of  consciousness  as  existing 
independently  of  any  other,  or  the  whole  of  consciousness 
as  existing  without  anything  to  "  hold  it  together " ;  in 
fact,  it  is  in  this  self-sufficiency  that  consciousness  does 
present  itself  immediately  and  before  reflection.  By 
ruling  out  all  presuppositions  of  thinking  we  may  and  do 
conceive  it  so ;  and  many  philosophers  have  refused  to  con- 
ceive it  otherwise. 


42  A  DEFENCE  OF  IDEALISM 

In  the  end  it  must  be  shown  that  personal  identity  is 
more  than  a  presupposition  of  our  thinking,  if  we  are  to 
avoid  the  fallacy  of  concluding  that  what  is  first  in  thought 
is  necessarily  first  in  existence.  It  must  be  what  Kant 
called  a  "  Voraussetzung  der  Erfahrung,"  a  presupposition 
of  Experience,  something  without  which  experience  would 
not  be  what  it  is  or  what  it  appears  to  be.  But  for  the 
moment  let  us  suppose  that  personal  identity  is  unthinkable 
without  memory. 

With  what  memories  or  memory  did  our  conscious  life, 
then,  begin  ?  Say  that  it  started  with  unconscious  memory 
(the  "heritage").  Well  and  good.  But  for  conscious- 
ness that  is  the  same  thing  as  starting  with  no  memory  at 
all.  To  all  intents  and  purposes,  I,  or  if  you  prefer  it, 
my  conscious  states,  start  with  an  absolute  blank  behind  as 
well  as  before  them.  In  this  case  it  will  be  truly  my  body 
that  remembers,  and  not  I  or  they ;  and  though  its  memo- 
ries will  affect  very  profoundly  my  conscious  states  when 
they  do  arise  out  of  the  blank,  for  me  or  for  consciousness 
they  do  not  exist ;  nor  can  they  exist  on  the  theory  of  un- 
conscious memory,  or  on  any  theory  that  precludes  personal 
identity;  that  is  to  say,  the  existence  of  a  self  before 
memory. 

We  saw  that  "  the  heritage  "  itself,  the  instinct,  the 
knowledge  made  perfect  through  long  ages  of  practice,  all 
that  we  have  learned  to  call  unconscious  memory,  is  mean- 
ingless unless  it  has  once  been  conscious,  and  would  be 
utterly  useless  to  us  if  it  were  not  our  memory;  we  saw, 
that  is  to  say,  that  our  past  consciousness  likewise  presup- 
poses personal  identity,  a  self. 

I  admit  that  the  argument  from  forgotten  memory  cuts 
both  ways.  But  when  we  consider  that  our  conscious  life, 
the  life  of  each  individual  in  the  series,  began  with  a  for- 
getting, and  that  in  order  to  know  perfectly  we  must  know 
how  to  forget  perfectly,  it  looks  as  if  the  argument  that 


PAN-PSYCHISM  OF  SAMUEL  BUTLER     43 

presupposes  memory  has,  if  anything,  the  more  dangerous 
edge. 

And  if,  to  avoid  both  edges,  we  turn  for  safety  to  the 
obvious  alternative  that  memory  and  selfhood,  or  that 
memory  and  consciousness  are  neither  afore  nor  after  an- 
other, but  simultaneous  and  mutually  dependent,  conscious- 
ness becoming  memory  before  we  are  conscious  of  it,  we  are 
faced  again  with  the  annihilating  fact  of  forgetting. 

All  these  dangers  and  dilemmas  are  avoided  if  we  do  but 
put  selfhood  where  the  plain  man  puts  it,  and  where  our 
everyday  thinking  puts  it  —  first. 


II 

VITALISM 

I  SHALL  be  reminded  that  dangers  and  dilemmas  would  be 
avoided  much  more  easily  and  surely  if  we  would  only 
consent  to  put  memory  where  the  physiologist  puts  it  —  in 
the  brain-cells  of  the  organism,  and  leave  it  there.  This 
would  certainly  be  one  way  out,  if  memory  were  really  that 
simple  affair  of  neural  association  fixed  into  habit  which 
the  physiologist  takes  it  to  be. 

But  does  not  memory  presuppose  two  things  which  are 
not  simple  —  Space  and  Time  ?  Time  for  the  order  of 
events  in  memory,  space  for  their  juxtaposition  ?  It  is  not 
easy  to  see  how  any  set  of  neural  associations  could  yield 
either.  Whether  as  presuppositions  or  as  forms  of  ar- 
rangement (schemata),  they  stand,  as  it  were,  between 
memory  and  that  hypothetical  self,  removing  memory  a 
stage  farther  yet  from  its  supreme  place  as  the  first. 
Memory  itself  is  so  dependent  on  them  that  we  can  make 
no  valid  statement  about  it  that  does  not  take  them  into 
account ;  and  it  will  be  no  use  trying  to  show  that  personal 
identity  is  independent  of  memory  unless  we  can  show 
also  that  it  is  independent  of  space  and  time. 

And  space  and  time  draw  with  a  large  net. 

The  view  that  M.  Bergson  has  set  forth  in  Sur  les 
Donnees  immediates  de  la  Conscience  and  La  Matiere  et  la 
Memoire  does  more  to  make  clear  the  relations  of  Time, 
Space,  and  Memory  than  perhaps  any  philosophy  before  the 
day  of  Vitalism. 

This  clearness  is  not  altogether  due  to  M.  Bergson's 
metaphysical  theory ;  for,  as  we  shall  see,  that  theory  lands 

44 


VITALISM  45 

him  in  many  hopeless  contradictions  by  the  way.  But  his 
view  of  time  and  space  does  not  stand  or  fall  with  his 
theory  of  the  Elan  Vital;  and,  whatever  the  ultimate  des- 
tiny of  Vitalism  may  be,  no  metaphysic  that  comes  after  it 
can  afford  to  ignore  M.  Bergson's  really  very  singular  view. 
It  is  mainly  owing  to  its  author's  brilliant  and  reckless  in- 
consequence that  Monism  can  suck  advantage  out  of  it. 
M.  Bergson  makes  things  apparently  easy  for  himself 
at  the  start  by  letting  the  work  of  the  mere  intellect  (in 
his  own  phrase)  "  filter  through,"  and  plunging  into  the 
thick  of  immediate  consciousness.  In  order  to  preserve 
its  integrity  he  has  to  break  with  all  past  conceptions  of 
time  as  quantity,  discontinuous,  infinitely  divisible.  But 
as  this  idea  of  time  as  discontinuous,  divisible  quantity  has 
an  awkward  way  of  cropping  up  in  spite  of  him,  he  dis- 
tinguishes between  Pure  Time  (Duree)  and,  as  you  might 
say,  popular  or  spurious  time. 

Pure  Time,  or  Duree,  is  intensive,  and  neither  divisible 
nor  measurable;  that  is  to  say,  it  is  not  quantitative  but 
qualitative.  For  Time  is  pure  succession,  and  never 
simultaneity.  Simultaneity  is  juxtaposition,  and  juxta- 
position is  a  spatial  thing. 

"  La  duree  toute  pure  est  la  forme  que  prend  la  succession  de 
nos  etats  de  conscience  quand  notre  moi  se  laisse  vivre." 
(Donnees  immediates  de  la  Conscience,  page  76.) 

"  On  peut  .  .  .  concevoir  la  succession  sans  la  distinction,  et 
comme  une  penetration  mutuelle,  une  solidarite,  une  organisa- 
tion intime  d'elements,  dont  chacum,  representatif  du  tout,  ne 
s'en  distingue  et  ne  s'en  isole  que  pour  une  pensee  capable 
d'ahstraire.  Telle  est  sans  doute  done  la  representation  qui  se 
ferait  de  la  duree  un  etre  a  la  fois  identique  et  changeant, 
qui  n'aurait  aucune  idee  de  I'espace.  Mais  familiarises  avec 
cette  derniere  idee,  obsedes  meme,  par  elle,  nous  I'introduisona 
a  notre  insu  dans  notre  representation  de  la  succession  pure; 
nous  juxtaposons  nos  etats  de  conscience  de  maniere  a  lea 
apercevoir  simultanement,  non  plus  I'un  dans  I'autre,  mais  I'un 
a  cote  de  I'autre;  bref,  nous  projetons  le  temps  dans  I'espace, 
nous  exprimons  la  duree  en  etendue,  et  la  succession  prend  pour 


46  A  DEFENCE  OF  IDEALISM 

nous  la  forme  d'une  ligue  continue  ou  d'une  cliaine,  dont  les 
parties  se  touchent  sans  se  penetrer."     {Ibid.,  page  77.) 

Time  thus  conceived  is  a  bastard  conception,  due  to  the 
intrusion  of  the  idea  of  space  into  the  domain  of  pure  con- 
sciousness. 

Space,  in  which  all  juxtapositions  occur  and  no  succes- 
sions, is  purely  quantitative,  discontinuous,  and  divisible; 
and  this  bastard  time,  of  which  clock-time  is  the  glaring 
example,  takes  on  all  the  quantitative  characteristics  of 
space.  Past,  present,  and  future,  the  time  we  divide  into 
moments,  days  and  years,  is  quantitative,  is  spatial.  In 
pure  Time  there  is  no  past,  present  and  future,  only  duree, 
the  past  which  "  bites  into  "  (qui  mord  sur)  the  present,  the 
present  that  bites  into  the  future. 

There  are  no  interstices  in  time. 

Let  us  take  it  at  that  and  see  what  happens. 

You  can  never  say  of  pure  Time  that  so  much  of  it  has 
passed,  an  hour,  a  minute  or  a  second.  This  is  the  spuri- 
ous time  which  is  really  spatial,  measured  by  the  shadow 
on  the  dial,  the  sand  in  the  hour-glass,  the  hands  on  the 
clock.  Moreover,  shadow  and  sand-grains  and  hands 
move,  and  movement  is  in  space. 

This  is  plausible  —  and  we  shall  presently  see  why. 

It  must  follow  that  if  I  beat  time :  tum  —  tumty  —  tum 
—  tum :  tumty  —  tumty  —  tum,  I  am  really  beating  space. 
For,  though  a  tumty  is  equal  to  a  tum,  their  equality  is  of 
space  and  not  of  time.  For  all  the  time  they  take,  there  is 
no  difference  between  one  hundred  and  twenty-five  tumties 
and  one  tum,  seeing  that  there  are  no  interstices  in  Time's 
tum  where  its  tumties  could  creep  in. 

In  fact,  time  is  taken  by  M.  Bergson  as  a  convenient 
stuffing  for  the  interstices  of  space. 

And,  since  Time  is  pure  succession  and  not  simulta- 
neity, no  two  events  can  happen  in  the  same  pure  Time. 
And  there  is  no  time  left  for  them  to  happen  in  but  that 
impure  time  which   is   really   space.     So   that   "  Every 


yiTALISM  47 

minute  dies  a  man,  Every  minute  one  is  bom  "  can  only 
mean  that  the  death  and  the  birth  occupy  the  same  space ; 
which  is  precisely  what  they  are  not  doing  and  cannot  do. 

Then  there  is  Pure  Space,  which  is  quantitative,  meas- 
urable, infinitely  divisible.  Space  is  responsible  for  the 
awkward  interstices  we  do  not  find  in  Time.  And  though 
we  think  of  space  as  divisible,  we  perceive  it  as  extended, 
that  is  to  say,  continuous.  According  to  M.  Bergson,  in 
pure  perception,  immediate  consciousness,  all  contradic- 
tions are  solved  and  all  difficulties  overcome.  Let  us  say, 
then,  that  we  do  actually  perceive  space,  or  at  any  rate 
objects  in  space,  as  extended.  It  is  in  space  and  space 
alone  that  objects  can  lie  peaceably  side  by  side.  But  I 
am  afraid  it  follows  that  they  cannot  succeed  each  other, 
for  succession  is  of  Pure  Time.  Therefore  there  can  be 
no  movement.  The  movements  of  molecules  in  bodies,  and 
of  atoms  and  of  electrons  in  ether,  or  wherever  it  is  they 
do  move,  the  course  of  the  stars  in  heaven,  and  the  long 
succession  of  motor  buses  and  vans  and  taxis  on  earth,  in 
the  Strand,  is  occurring,  not  in  the  Strand,  and  certainly 
not  in  Pure  Space;  but  where  the  long  succession  of  my 
thoughts  is  occurring,  in  Pure  Time. 

You  see  what  has  happened?  Under  M.  Bergson's 
skilful  manipulation  space  and  time  have  simply  changed 
roles. 

For  if  quantitative  time,  in  which  events  are  simulta- 
neous, is  an  impure  and  spurious  time  that  is  really  space, 
you  may  as  well  say  that  continuous  space,  in  which  ob- 
jects succeed  each  other,  is  an  impure  and  spurious  space 
that  is  really  time. 

Again,  M.  Bergson's  Pure  Time  is  Duree,  continuous 
duration.  But  surely  duration  and  succession  contradict 
each  other  every  bit  as  much  as  extension  and  divisibility. 

I  do  not  think  that  M.  Bergson  can  be  allowed,  more 
than  anybody  else,  to  have  it  both  ways.  But  his  conten- 
tion is  that  in  action  and  immediate  perception  which  is 


48  A  DEFENCE  OF  IDEALISM 

based  on  action  and  on  action  only,  you  do  as  a  matter  of 
fact  get  it  both  ways.  You  have  got  it  both  ways  before 
you  have  time  to  go  back  on  the  performance  and  see  what 
you  have  got  and  how  you  have  got  it.  It  is  a  perform- 
ance that  sets  at  nought  all  mathematical  laws  of  space 
and  time  and  motion ;  that  takes  no  account  of  the  be- 
haviour of  hypothetical  electrons  in  a  hypothetical  medium. 
M.  Bergson  gives  a  reality  to  sensible  space  and  sensible 
movement  which  he  denies  to  mathematical  space ;  conse- 
quently he  has  no  difficulty  in  assuming  "  real  "  move- 
ment. He  argues  that,  because  differences  of  sensation  de- 
pend on  differences  of  movement,  and  because  differences 
of  sensation  are  intensive,  and  qualitative,  and  absolute, 
are  of  kind  and  not  of  quantity  or  degree,  therefore  move- 
ment is  absolute. 

"  In  vain  we  try  to  base  the  reality  of  movement  on  a  cause 
distinct  from  it;  analysis  always  leads  us  back  to  movement 
itself." 

And  this  whether  you  watch  the  movements  of  objects  in 
external  space  or  are  conscious  of  your  own  movements  in 
muscular  sensation. 

"...  I  touch  the  reality  of  movement  when  it  appears  to  me, 
within  me,  as  a  change  of  state  or  of  quality." 

Exactly  as  in  my  other  sensations  which  are  obviously 
qualitative. 

"  Sound  differs  absolutely  from  silence,  as  also  does  one  sound 
from  another  sound.  Between  light  and  darkness,  between  col- 
ours, between  shades,  the  difference  is  absolute.  The  passage 
from  one  to  the  other  is,  also,  absolutely  real.  I  hold,  then,  the 
two  extremities  of  the  chain,  muscular  sensations  in  me,  the 
sensible  qualities  of  matter  outside  me,  and  neither  in  one  case 
nor  the  other  do  I  seize  movement,  if  movement  there  be,  as  a 
simple  relation :  it  is  an  absolute."  (La  matiere  et  la  Memoire, 
page  217.) 

Between  these  two  extremities  M.  Bergson  finds  the 
movements   of  external  bodies   properly   so-called.     And 


VITALISM  49 

you  would  have  thought  that  these  bodies  and  their  move- 
ments might  have  given  him  pause.  But  no.  Some  ob- 
jects move ;  others  remain  stationary.  How,  he  asks,  can 
we  distinguish  between  them  ?  How  can  we  distinguish 
between  real  and  apparent  movement  here  ? 

These  questions  he  leaves  unanswered.  They  are  be- 
side the  point.  The  question  is,  not  how  changes  of  posi- 
tion in  the  parts  of  matter  are  accomplished,  but  how  a 
change  of  aspect  is  accomplished  in  the  whole. 

You  see  what  has  happened?  M.  Bergson  has  shifted 
the  terms  of  the  problem  from  movement  and  immobility, 
that  is  to  say,  from  that  change  of  position  which  is  the 
very  essence  of  the  question  raised,  to  change  of  aspect  of 
the  whole,  which  was  not  in  question.  If  you  accept 
change  of  aspect  of  the  whole,  as  the  equivalent  to  change 
of  position  of  the  parts,  you  have  committed  yourself,  with- 
out further  argument,  to  the  proposition  that  movement  of 
objects  in  space  is  on  all  fours  with  my  sensations  of 
movement ;  it  is  qualitative ;  it  is  absolute. 

And  the  real  problem,  change  of  position,  with  its  bur- 
den of  quantitative  spatial  relations,  of  distance,  and  the 
rest,  has  been  quietly  burked. 

M.  Bergson  does  not  tell  us  how  we  can  distinguish — 
on  his  theory  —  between  stationary  and  moving  objects, 
between  real  and  apparent  movement  "  here."  The  ques- 
tion was  trembling  on  my  tongue  long  before  he  asked  it ; 
it  excites  still  my  burning  curiosity.  But  he  is  not  going 
to  satisfy  my  intellectual  prurience.  Never  shall  I  know 
how  he  squares  it  with  a  theory  of  movement  as  absolute 
and  qualitative.  Having  demonstrated  that  extension  or 
space,  as  we  perceive  and  feel  it,  is  continuous  (*'  le  carac- 
tere  essential  de  Fespace  est  la  continuite  ") ;  that  only  the 
unreal  constructions  of  mathematics  put  asunder  what  the 
God  of  immediate  consciousness  hath  joined;  and  that 
science  is  in  accord  with  immediate  consciousness  in  re- 
turning, after  all,  in  spite  of  appearances,  to  the  "  idea  of 


50  A  DEFENCE  OF  IDEALISM 

universal  continuity"  (page  219),  and  that  all  breaking 
up  of  matter  into  independent  bodies  with  absolutely  de- 
termined contours  is  artificial,  he  finds  that  the  irresist- 
ible tendenc}^  to  constitute  a  discontinuous  material  uni- 
verse comes  from  Life  itself. 

"  A  cote  de  la  conscience  et  de  la  science  il  y  a  la  vie."  (Page 
219.) 

"  Quelle  que  soit  la  nature  de  la  matiere,  on  peut  dire  que 
le  vie  y  etablira  deja  une  premiere  discontinuite.  .  .  .  Nos 
besoins  sont  done  autant  de  faisceaux  lumineux,  qui,  braques 
sur  la  continuite  des  qualites  sensibles,  y  dessinent  des  corps 
distinctes.  lis  ne  peuvent  se  satisfaire  qu'a  la  condition  de 
se  tailler  dans  cette  continuite  un  corps,  puis  d'y  delimiter 
d'autres  corps  avec  lesquels  celui-ci  entrera  en  relation  comme 
avec  des  personnes.  Etablir  ces  rapports,  tout  particuliers  entre 
des  portions  ainsi  decoupees  de  la  realite  sensible,  est  justement 
ce  que  nous  appelons  vivre."     (Pages  220,  221.) 

You  could  not  have  a  more  brilliant,  nor,  I  believe,  a 
truer  picture  of  the  evolution  and  behaviour  of  living  or- 
ganisms. But  it  is  not  a  metaphysic  that  M.  Bergson 
has  given  us  here.  Unless  we  are  to  insist  that  the  opera- 
tion of  carving  portions,  as  with  a  knife,  out  of  presum- 
ably pre-existing  "  sensible  reality  "  lands  us  in  a  meta- 
physic, and  a  bad  one  at  that. 

What  I  would  like  to  point  out  is  that  the  "  faisceaux 
lumineux  "  of  our  needs  have  taken  the  place  of  the  old 
exploded  "  thought-relations  "  of  idealism,  the  "  diamond 
net "  into  which  the  universe  is  cast,  and  that  while  the 
function  of  the  diamond  net  was  to  hold  together,  the 
function  of  the  "  faisceaux  lumineux  "  is  to  break  up  and 
carve. 

That  is  to  say.  Life  does  what  Thought  was  blamed  for 
doing.  It  gives  rise  to  discontinuities  and  distinctions 
just  now  declared  to  be  unreal,  contradictory  and  artificial. 
Vitalism  may  steal  a  horse,  but  idealism  mustn't  look 
over  the  hedge. 


VITALISM  51 

And  now  the  contradictions  thicken.  When  we  carry 
Life's  operations  further  we  are  prolonging  vital  move- 
ment and  turning  our  backs  on  true  knowledge  (page  221). 
Yet  it  is  science  that  exacts  this  prolongation,  and  in  the 
process  "  the  materiality  of  the  atom  dissolves,  more  and 
more,  under  the  gaze  of  the  physicist."     (Page  221.) 

We  have  Life  itself  aiding  and  abetting  him  by  starting 
the  disastrous  process  which  represents,  for  M.  Bergson, 
"  an  ordinary  form  of  useful  action  mal  a  propos  trans- 
ported into  the  domain  of  pure  knowledge."     (Page  221.) 

Why  mal  a  propos?  If  it  belongs  to  the  domain  of  pure 
knowledge,  it  belongs;  if  it  does  not  belong,  we  have  no 
grounds  for  complaint ;  and  anyhow  Life  began  it. 

However,  the  further  the  process  is  carried  into  that 
domain,  the  more  the  physicist  is  forced  to  renounce  all 
hypotheses  of  solid  atoms,  of  bodies  formed  of  solid  atoms, 
and  of  real  contacts  between  bodies  —  of  such  a  universe, 
in  short,  on  which  we  have  "  most  manifestly  a  grip." 

"  Why  do  we  think  of  a  solid  atom  and  why  of  shocks  ?  Be- 
cause solids,  being  bodies  on  which  we  have  most  manifestly  a 
grip  are  those  which  interest  us  most  in  our  relations  with  the 
external  world,  and  because  contact  is  the  only  means  of  which 
we  can  apparently  dispose  in  order  to  bring  our  body  into  action 
upon  other  bodies.  But  very  simple  experiments  show  that  there 
is  never  real  contact  between  two  bodies  which  move  each  other; 
besides,  solidity  is  far  from  being  a  state  of  matter  absolutely 
cut  and  dried.  Solidity  and  shock,  then,  borrow  their  apparent 
clarity  from  the  habits  and  necessities  of  practical  life  —  images 
of  this  kind  do  not  throw  any  light  on  the  ultimate  nature 
(Jond)  of  things."     (Page  222.) 

These  considerations,  far  from  leading  M.  Bergson  to 
suspect  that  both  in  practical  life  and  in  the  hypotheses 
of  pure  knowledge  we  are  dealing  with  appearances,  far 
from  throwing  doubt  on  the  absolute  reality  of  that  time 
and  space  movement  of  which  we  have  immediate  con- 
sciousness, confirm  him  rather  in  his  view  that  here,  if 
anywhere,  is  the  absolutely  real  world. 


52  A  DEFENCE  OF  IDEALISM 

And  so,  while  nothing  can  bridge  for  him  the  gulf  be- 
tween this  reality  and  pure  knowledge  —  his  whole  phi- 
losophy is  based  on  this  distinction  —  we  have  the  apparent 
contradiction  that  it  is  life,  desire,  action,  the  very  things 
held  to  be  most  manifestly  "  real,"  that  are  responsible 
for  the  work  of  division,  which,  on  the  theory  that  life 
puts  together  and  thought  divides,  should  belong  to  the 
intellect. 

And  on  the  very  next  page  we  are  told,  indeed,  that, 
while  science  tends  to  dissolve  it  more  and  more  into 
forces  and  movements,  the  atom  "  will  preserve  its  indi- 
viduality for  our  mind  that  isolates  it  " ;  the  only  atom 
which  science  knows  being,  to  Faraday,  "  a  centre  of 
forces,"  each  atom  occupying  "  the  whole  of  space  to 
which  gravitation  extends,"  and  "  all  the  atoms  interpene- 
trating each  other  "  ;  while,  according  to  Professor  Thomp- 
son, it  is  "  '  a  ring  of  invariable  form,  whirling  round  and 
round  in  a  perfect,  continuous,  homogeneous  and  incom- 
pressible fluid  which  fills  space.'  "  (I  am  translating 
M.  Bergson's  translation  of  Faraday  and  Professor 
Thompson.)  And,  M.  Bergson,  caught  between  continu- 
ity and  discontinuity,  and  committed  to  the  theory  that 
the  difference  between  all  qualities  is  absolute,  while  con- 
fronted by  the  view  of  science  and  of  common  sense  that 
movements  go  on  independently  of  us  in  space,  which  he 
admits  to  be  quantitative,  concludes  that  "  real  "  move- 
ment is  the  "  transport  of  a  state  rather  than  of  a  thing  " 
(page  225). 

There  will,  however,  owing  to  that  admission,  still  be 
an  irreconcilable  difference  between  quality  and  pure 
quantity,  between  the  world  of  our  "  heterogeneous  "  sen- 
sations and  the  world  of  "  homogeneous  "  movements  in- 
dependent of  our  sensations,  unless  it  can  be  shown  that 
differences  between  "  real "  movements  are  more  than 
quantitative  —  that  real  movements  are  "  quality  itself." 


VITALISM  53 

To  this  hopeful  idea  of  real  movement  as  quality  M. 
Bergson  takes  his  flight. 

Let  us  say,  then,  that  "  real  "  movement  is  quality  and 
see  what  happens.  All  differences  of  movement,  differ- 
ences in  direction,  distance  and  velocity,  will  then  be  quali- 
tative, absolute.  There  can  be  no  degrees  between  ap- 
proach and  distance  and  between  fast  and  slow.  We  are 
compelled  to  think  of  fastness  and  slowness,  and  of  dis- 
tance and  of  approach  and  flight  in  terms  of  absolute,  ir- 
reducible moments.  A  strange  doctrine  this  for  a  philoso- 
pher who  insists  on  the  continuity  of  real  space  and  real 
movement  and  of  real  or  pure  perception.  I  said  "  com- 
pelled to  think  " ;  but  this  is  not  an  affair  of  the  compul- 
sions of  our  thinking;  when  you  come  to  quality  it  is  an 
affair  of  immediate  perception  and  of  life  itself.  And 
this  "  absoluteness  "  of  quality  makes,  not  for  continuity, 
but  for  discontinuity,  as  far  as  "  external  realities  "  are 
concerned. 

True,  M.  Bergson  distinguishes  between  this  qualitative 
"real"  movement  and  the  movement  which  is  the  subject 
of  mechanics.  But  when  it  comes,  as  it  must  come,  to  the 
relation  between  the  two  we  are  faced  with  another  diffi- 
culty. The  movement  which  is  the  subject  of  mechanics 
"  is  nothing  but  an  abstraction,  or  a  symbol,  a  common 
measure,  a  common  denominator,  ivhich  permits  compari- 
son of  all  real  movements  among  themselves."  (Pages 
225,  226.)      (The  italics  are  not  M.  Bergson's.) 

Now  how,  in  heaven's  name,  can  movement,  thus  de- 
clared to  be  purely  quantitative,  serve  as  a  common  meas- 
ure and  common  denominator  of  all  movements  declared 
to  be  purely  qualitative  ?  In  movement,  as  such,  not  even 
immediate  consciousness,  the  all-reconciler,  can  discern 
the  ghost  of  absolute  quality.  Not  until  you  (and  sci- 
ence) have  translated  movement  into  terms  of  energy,  into 
intensity,  which  is  quality  again,  can  you  escape  from 


54  A  DEFENCE  OF  IDEALISM 

quantity.  Nor  can  you  altogether  escape  it  here,  since 
science  presupposes  amounts  of  energy  and  degrees  of  in- 
tensity which  immediate  perception  knows  nothing  of. 
Not  even  in  the  interests  of  Vitalism  should  we  confuse 
those  "  absolute "  qualities,  those  immeasurable  intensi- 
ties of  sensation  which  accompany  the  putting  forth  of 
energy  with  the  measurable  intensities  of  energy  itself. 

In  the  same  way  the  movements  of  our  bodies  are  at- 
tended by  muscular  sensations  and  sensations  of  freedom 
and  well-being  which  are  purely  qualitative,  but,  I  think, 
we  have  no  business  to  argue  from  them  to  the  quality  of 
movements. 

But  to  return  to  these  real  and  qualitative  movements 
of  which  quantitative  movements  are  the  common  measure 
and  denominator.  Looked  at  in  themselves  {envisages 
en  eux-memes)  they  are 

"  indivisibles  which  occupy  duration,  presuppose  a  before  and 
after,  and  bind  together  the  successive  moments  of  time  by  a 
thread  of  variable  quality,  which,"  M.  Bergson  says,  "  should 
not  be  without  some  analogy  with  the  continuity  of  our  own  con- 
sciousness. ...  If  we  could  draw  out  this  duration,  that  is  to 
say,  live  in  a  slower  rhythm,  should  we  not  see,  in  proportion  as 
this  rhythm  slowed  down,  colours  fading  and  lengthening  out 
into  successive  impressions,  still  no  doubt  coloured,  but  more 
and  more  ready  to  merge  in  pure  vibrations  (ehranlements)  ? " 
(Page  226.) 

That  is  to  say  (unless  the  brilliance  of  M.  Bergson's 
style  blinds  me  to  his  meaning),  that  those  differences  in 
the  movements  of  molecules,  differences  of  which  I  am  not 
immediately  conscious,  by  determining  the  qualities  of  my 
sensations,  of  which  I  am  immediately  conscious,  take  on 
continuity  and  quality,  so  that  their  world,  the  world  of 
"  unreal  "  vibrations,  reflects  in  some  sort  the  continuity 
of  consciousness. 

We  have  seen  that  M.  Bergson  uses  time  as  stuffing  for 
the  interstices  of  space.     We  now  see  him  using  qualities 


yiTALISM  55 

of  sensation  as  stuffing  for  the  interstices  of  movement, 
which  is  as  good  as  a  confession  that  he  can  no  more  get 
continuity  out  of  his  "  real "  movements  than  he  can  out 
of  any  other  movements.  And  his  adroit  suggestion  of 
"  some  analogy  "  does  not  disguise  the  essential  truth  of 
the  matter,  that  from  first  to  last  it  is  the  continuity  of 
consciousness  that  has  done  the  trick. 

What  are  we  to  make  of  a  theory  which  seems,  now,  our 
only  clue  to  the  very  heart  and  secret  of  reality,  and  now 
a  splendid  mass  of  incoherences  ?  We  have  the  "  real " 
movements  of  which  M.  Bergson  has  just  said  that  the 
movements  known  to  mechanics  are  the  common  measure 
and  denominator;  we  know  that  the  laws  of  physics  are 
based  on  those  very  laws  of  mathematics  which  are  not 
real  in  M.  Bergson's  sense  of  reality,  being  the  work  of 
the  intellect  that  divides ;  we  have  the  qualities  —  sensa- 
tions of  which  we  are  told  that  they  are  absolute,  that  is  to 
say,  irreducible  as  any  atom;  and  we  have  movements 
which,  but  for  the  quality  which  is  called  in  to  stop  their 
gaps,  would  be  as  discontinuous  as  space  itself.  And  with 
these  irreducibles  M.  Bergson  builds  up  his  certainty. 

And  the  Elan  Vital  does  not  help  him,  since  it  began 
the  whole  business  of  defining  and  dividing,  of  burrowing 
and  digging  holes,  as  it  were,  in  real  space  and  drawing  the 
contours  of  bodies  to  suit  its  own  purposes. 

And  supposing  we  were  justified  in  transferring  the 
quality  of  sensations  to  the  molecular  movements  to  which 
we  are  obliged  to  refer  them,  quantity  being  thus  trans- 
formed into  quality,  the  common  quantitative  measure  and 
the  common  denominator  would  no  longer  apply. 

What  M.  Bergson  does  not  appear  to  admit  is  that  all 
space,  even  "  real  space,"  may  be  an  intellectual  construc- 
tion ;  that  there  is  no  perception  of  extension  so  immediate 
as  not  to  presuppose  it,  so  pure  as  not  to  include  it ;  that, 
as  the  work  of  thought,  it  is  as  discrete  or  as  continuous  as 
thought  pleases,  that  is  to  say,  it  may  be  both;  and  that,  if 


56  A  DEFENCE  OF  IDEALISM 

it  were  continuous  only,  as  continuous  as  the  real  space  of 
M.  Bergson's  immediate  perception,  it  would  be  no  less 
quantitative  on  that  account. 

I  do  not  want  to  dispute  M.  Bergson's  conclusions: 
that  matter  is  the  vehicle  and  plastic  tool  of  the  Elan 
Vital;  that  pure  remembrance  is  a  spiritual  manifes- 
tation; and  that  with  memory  we  are  actually  in  the 
domain  of  spirit.  These  are  precisely  the  conclusions  to 
which  I  believe  the  balance  of  the  biological  and  psycho- 
logical argument  inclines.  But  I  do  not  see  that  these  con- 
clusions are  supported  by  a  theory  which  begins  and  ends 
in  metaphysical  dualism,  that  tries  to  establish  "  reality  " 
on  the  far  from  stable  ground  of  action  plus  immediate 
perception,  and  that,  in  spite  of  having  coolly  let  "  filter 
through "  every  consideration  inimical  to  its  argument, 
lands  itself  in  perpetual  contradictions  in  its  efforts  to 
escape  from  the  position  it  has  created  for  itself. 

For,  while  it  takes  its  stand  on  action  and  immediate 
perception  as  alone  affording  the  clue  to  the  Real,  and 
asks  us  to  suppose  such  absurdities  as  that  homogeneous 
space  is  logically  posterior  to  "  material  things  and  the 
pure  knowledge  that  we  have  of  them  " —  knowledge  that 
it  declares,  four  pages  later  on,  to  be  tainted  with  the 
impurity  of  the  sensations,  "  qui  s'y  melent "  (Page  262) 
—  and  that  extension  precedes  space  (Page  258),  at  the 
same  time,  we  are  to  suppose  that  it  is  this  very  same 
homogeneous  space  that  "  concerns  our  action  and  our 
action  alone."     (Page  258). 

M.  Bergson's  aim  is  to  escape  the  pitfalls  of  Eealism 
and  Idealism  alike,  to  "  resoudre  les  contradictions,"  to 
"  faire  tomber  1'  insurmontable  barriere,"  and  at  the  same 
time  to  "  rejoindre  la  science." 

He  finds  a  common  error  in  the  realism  of  the  vulgar 
herd  that  takes  for  granted  a  world  of  things  existing 


VITALISM  57 

plump  and  plain  outside  and  independent  of  any  conscious- 
ness, and  the  realism  of  Kant  that  presupposes  a  Thing- 
in-itself  independent  of  and  inaccessible  to  consciousness: 
"  Tune  et  I'autre  dressent  I'espace  homogene  comme  une 
barriere  entre  I'intelligence  et  les  cboses."     (Page  258.) 

You  wonder  why  Kant  should  be  lumped  with  the  vulgar 
realist  when  he  made  of  homogeneous  space  and  of  time, 
not  barriers  erected,  but  forms  of  the  intelligence  for  the 
co-ordination  of  the  data  of  sense. 

The  common  error  is  that  both  realists  made  space  a 
condition  a  priori  of  experience;  whereas  immediate  per- 
ception has  no  a  priori  elements,  nothing  is  afore  or  after 
another;  but  our  experience,  consisting  mainly  and  pri- 
marily of  action,  so  to  speak,  gathers  space  and  time  with 
it  as  it  goes  along.  Space  and  time  will  thus  be  "  given  " 
with  the  sensations,  co-ordinated  by  means  of  them.  It  is 
not  quite  clear  whether  M.  Bergson  means  that  sensations 
occur  ready  co-ordinated  in  space  and  time,  and  that  our 
perception  reflects,  as  it  were,  the  given  co-ordination,  or 
whether  it  is  we  who  co-ordinate  as  we  go  along.  From 
his  theory  of  perception  co-ordination  (of  objects  in 
space)  would  seem  to  be  given ;  from  his  theory  of  action 
that  we  co-ordinate  would  follow.  Anyhow,  co-ordination 
proceeds  hand-in-hand  with  experience,  and  is  not  pro- 
vided for  it  beforehand. 

The  shipwreck  of  Idealism,  rather,  is  in  "  the  passage 
from  the  order  which  appears  for  us  in  perception  to  the 
order  which  succeeds  for  us  in  science."  (Page  253). 
And  Idealism  and  Realism  proceed  from  a  common  error, 
in  that,  on  both  theories,  "  conscious  perception  and  the 
conditions  of  conscious  perception  are  directed  towards 
pure  knowledge,  not  towards  action."     (Page  258.) 

Here  M.  Bergson,  and  the  great  body  of  modem  philoso- 
phy with  him,  part  company  with  the  metaphysics  of  the 
past.     He  has  put  his  finger  on  the  weak  spot  of  all  the 


58  A  DEFENCE  OF  IDEALISM 

transcendent  theories  —  their  neglect  of  action ;  "  tou- 
jours  elles  negligent  le  rapport  de  la  perception  a  Faction 
et  du  souvenir  a  la  conduite."      (Page  254.) 

Let  us  see  how  a  philosophy  fares  that  is  directed  to- 
wards action  and  action  alone. 

In  order  to  escape  Realism  and  Idealism  M.  Bergson 
identifies  perception  with  "  preparation  for  our  action," 
having  "  laisse  filtrer,"  the  work  of  intellect,  its  logical 
constructions  and  presuppositions  and  the  account  that 
science  gives  us  of  the  real  or  assumed  action  of  external 
things,  on  the  grounds  that  thought-relations  and  "  real  " 
action  are  not  given  in  immediate  perception ;  but,  having 
decided  that  pure  perception  is  concerned  with  action  and 
with  action  alone,  and  that  "  the  body  is  an  instrument  of 
action  and  of  action  only,"  he  has  less  difficulty  than  might 
have  been  supposed  in  establishing  the  correspondence  be- 
tween perception  and  cerebral  states. 

Yet  we  find  in  this  correspondence  that  the  cerebral 
state  is  "  neither  the  cause  nor  the  effect,  nor  in  any  sense 
the  duplicate,"  but  simply  the  "  continuation  "  of  percep- 
tion ;  perception  being  "  our  virtual  action  and  the  cerebral 
state  our  action  begun."  (Page  260.)  It  is  a  "corre- 
spondence "  and  yet  it  is  a  "  continuation."  It  is  a  con- 
tinuation of  perception  and  yet  not  perception  itself. 

Now  the  only  way  in  which  one  thing  can  be  the  con- 
tinuation of  another  without  being  that  thing  itself  is  for 
it  to  be  an  effect  of  that  thing,  the  cause  passing  over  into, 
that  is  to  say,  continuing  in  the  effect.  And  yet  this  con- 
tinuation-cum-correspondence  of  perception  is  not  its  effect. 

And  this  perception  —  already  doubly  tainted  by  iden- 
tification with  our  virtual  action  of  which  our  body  is  the 
instrument,  and  the  action  of  "  things  "  upon  the  instru- 
ment —  is  what  M.  Bergson  calls  "  pure." 

And  the  taint  does  not  end  there.  This  theory  of  pure 
perception  must  be  "  attenuated  and  completed."  Pure 
perception   is  mingled,    further,   with   affections    (sensa- 


VITALISM  59 

tions)  and  recollections  (memories).  We  have  to  "re- 
store to  body  its  extension  and  to  perception  its  duree," 
to  "  reintegrate  in  consciousness  its  two  subjective  ele- 
ments, affectivity  and  memory."     (Page  260.) 

We  have  seen  what  has  happened  to  extension  and 
duree.  We  have  now  to  see  what  happens  to  perception 
and  memory.  M.  Bergson,  plunging  into  the  very  thick- 
ness of  experience,  starts  with  the  extremely  one-sided 
proposition  that  our  body  is  an  instrument  of  action  and 
of  action  only.  The  true  role  of  perception  is  to  prepare 
actions.     Perception  is 

"  nothing  but  selection.  It  creates  nothing ;  its  role,  on  the  con- 
trary, is  to  eliminate  from  the  ensemble  of  images  all  those  on 
which  I  should  have  no  hold ;  then,  from  among  the  images  re- 
tained, to  eliminate  all  which  have  no  interest  for  the  needs  of 
the  image  I  call  my  body."     (Page  255.) 

"  The  body  is  a  centre  of  action  and  of  action  only.  In  no 
degree,  in  no  sense,  under  no  aspect  does  it  serve  to  prepare, 
still  less  to  explain,  a  representation  ...  all  in  our  perception 
that  can  be  explained  by  the  brain  are  our  actions  begun,  or 
prepared  or  suggested,  and  not  our  perceptions  themselves." 

So  much  for  perception. 

When  it  comes  to  memory,  the  body  preserves  motor 
habits  capable  of  bringing  the  past  again  into  play;  also, 
by  "  repetition  of  certain  cerebral  phenomena  which  pro- 
long ancient  perceptions,  it  will  furnish  to  remembrance 
a  point  of  attachment  with  the  actual,  a  means  of  recon- 
quering a  lost  influence  over  present  reality."  (Pages 
251,  252). 

We  might  ask  how  cerebral  phenomena  can  "  prolong  " 
what  they  have  never  been  concerned  with.  But  let  that 
pass.  We  shall  be  involved  in  still  more  serious  contra- 
dictions before  we  have  done  with  this  theory  of  percep- 
tion as  a  preparer  of  actions  only.  We  are  not  quite  sure 
whether  we  are  to  suppose  that  the  function  of  perception 
is  not  to  perceive,  or  whether  it  is  to  perceive  only  those 
things  that  make  for  action. 


60  A  DEFENCE  OF  IDEALISM 

"  Here,"  says  M.  Bergson,  "  is  my  body  with  its  '  per- 
ceptive centres.'  These  centres  are  shaken  and  I  have  a 
representation  of  things.  On  the  other  hand,  I  have  sup- 
posed that  these  shakings  can  neither  produce  nor  translate 
my  perception.  It  is,  then,  outside  them.  Where  is 
it  ?  "  M.  Bergson  has  no  hesitation  in  deciding  that  it  is 
"  in  "  material  objects.  My  perception  "  ne  pent  etre  que 
quelque  chose  de  ces  objets  eux-memes ;  elle  est  en  eux 
plutot  qu'ils  ne  sont  en  elle."  His  grounds  for  this  view 
of  perception  are  that  in  "  posing  "  his  body  he  "  poses  " 
a  "  certain  image "  and  with  it  "  the  totality  of  other 
images  " ;  because  his  body  has  its  place  in  this  assembly 
he  concludes  that  his  perception  must  be  there  also. 

And  though  the  body  and  its  cerebral  shakings  have 
nothing  whatever  to  do  with  his  perception,  which  exists 
outside  them  (can  he  mean  as  an  independent  object  in 
space  ?),  the  unique  role  of  these  shakings  is  to  prepare  the 
reactions  of  his  body  and  to  sketch  out  his  possible  actions 
("actions  virtuelles  ").  Lest  we  should  conclude  rashly 
that  in  this  case  the  roles  of  the  cerebral  shakings  and  of 
perception  are  one  and  the  same,  he  tells  us  that  perception 
consists  in  detaching  from  the  ensemble  of  objects  —  not 
particular  objects  or  groups  of  objects  but  '^  the  possible 
action  of  my  body  on  them."     (Page  255.) 

So  that,  whatever  else  it  may  be,  the  primary  function 
of  perception  is  not  to  perceive. 

Perception,  therefore,  is  selection. 

Now  this  is  surely  giving  a  somewhat  incomprehensible 
and  contradictory  account  of  a  complex  but  perfectly  in- 
telligible performance.  Because  perception,  in  addition 
to  its  obvious  function  of  perceiving  —  of  being  aware  of 
—  and  its  less  obvious  and  possibly  disputable  function  of 
posing  its  own  objects,  has  a  distinct  reference  to  action, 
just  as  it  has  a  distinct  reference  to  appetite  and  love  and 
aesthetic  emotion  and  moral  attitudes  and  intellectual  in- 
terest and  cosmic  rapture  and  mystic  passion  and  ^very 


VITALISM  61 

conceivable  mode  of  conscious  experience,  because  both 
attention  and  intention  play  a  part  in  determining  what 
perceptions  shall  dominate  our  experience,  making  all  al- 
lowances for  the  part  they  play,  we  are  still  not  justified 
in  contending  that  perception  is  nothing  but  selection  with 
an  exclusive  reference  to  action. 

And  it  is  the  same  with  memory.  Its  primary  func- 
tion is  "  to  evoke  all  past  perceptions  which  have  analogy 
with  some  present  perception,  and  to  recall  to  us  what  went 
before,  and  what  followed  after,  and  thus  to  suggest  to  us 
the  most  useful  decision  among  possible  decisions." 
(Page  254.)  True,  this  is  not  all.  M.  Bergson  distin- 
guishes between  physical  memory,  which  is  an  affair  of 
motor  habit  associations,  and  "  pure "  memory.  Pure 
memory  holds  together  "  in  one  unique  intuition  the  mul- 
tiple moments  of  duree,  it  disengages  us  from  the  move- 
ment of  the  flux  of  things,  that  is  to  say,  from  the  rhythm 
of  necessity."  But  this  unique  intuition  again  has  a  pri- 
mary reference  to  action.  "  The  more  memory  serves  to 
contract  these  movements  into  one,  the  more  solid  the  grip 
on  matter  that  it  gives  us ;  so  that  the  memory  of  the  living 
being  seems  to  measure  beforehand  the  power  of  its  action 
on  things  and  to  be  nothing  but  the  intellectual  repercus- 
sion of  it."     (Pages  254-255.) 

After  all,  pure  memory  is  not  so  very  pure.  Like  pure 
perception,  it  is  tied  and  fettered  to  action  of  which  alone 
our  bodies  are  the  instrument. 

"  Observe,"  M.  Bergson  says,  "  the  position  we  thus 
take  between  realism  and  idealism." 

We  do  observe  it.  We  observe  that  in  the  interests  of 
the  Elan  Vital,  M.  Bergson  has  ignored  everything  in  con- 
sciousness that  does  not  bear  upon  action ;  and  that,  in 
consequence  of  his  wholesale  rejections,  his  position  is  be- 
tween the  devil  and  the  deep  sea.  The  deep  sea  holds  all 
the  "  relations  "  that  he  has  let  filter  through ;  not  only 
those  despised  ones  which  are  the  logical  framework  of 


62  A  DEFENCE  OE  IDEALISM 

the  actual,  but  those  which  science  reveals  as  part  and 
parcel  of  the  real;  and  the  devil  has  run  away  with  the 
possibilities  of  sensation  and  the  "  intermediary  percep- 
tions "  which  have  "  escaped  "  him. 

But,  however  irrelevant  they  may  be  to  M.  Bergson's 
action,  however  slender  their  "  grip  "  on  matter,  they  are 
not  destroyed.  The  devil  and  the  deep  sea  still  wait  for 
the  thinker  who  denies  them. 

"  Supposing  that  my  conscious  perception  has  an  end 
{destination)  which  is  altogether  practical,  that  in  the  en- 
semble of  things  it  emphasizes  (dessine)  only  those  which 
interest  my  possible  action  on  them :  I  understand  that  all 
the  rest  escapes  me,  and  that  all  the  rest,  nevertheless,  is 
of  the  same  nature  as  that  which  I  perceive."  (Page 
257.) 

How  do  I,  how  can  I  know  this  if  "  all  the  rest "  has 
"  escaped  "  me  ? 

In  order  to  suppose  that  conscious  perception  has  "  una 
destination  toute  pratique,"  I  have  had  to  suppose  a  lot  of 
things  besides :  that  "  homogeneous  space  is  not  logically 
anterior  but  posterior  to  material  things  and  to  the  pure 
knowledge  that  we  have  of  them;  that  extension  precedes 
space,  .  .  .  that  homogeneous  space  concerns  our  action 
and  our  action  only,  being  like  an  infinitely  divided  band 
that  we  hold  below  the  continuity  of  matter  in  order  to 
make  ourselves  masters  of  it,  to  break  it  up  in  the  direc- 
tion of  our  activities  and  of  our  needs."     (Page  258.) 

This  is  all  very  well  as  long  as  we  are  considering  the 
psychology  of  animals  and  babies,  whose  adventures  in 
space  and  experiments  in  action  are  neither  delayed  nor 
hampered  by  considerations  of  the  logically  anterior;  but 
it  is  to  ignore  immense  departments  of  adult  psychology, 
and  it  is  not  what  is  meant  by  a  metaphysic.  If  it  were, 
if  what  is  first  in  experience  were  first  in  reality,  why  not 
start  at  once  with  the  human  embryo  or  the  protozoon  ? 
Why  bother  about  human  psychology  at  all  ?     Only  you 


VITALISM  63 

ought  to  know  exactly  what  you  are  doing.  If  you  may 
light-heartedly  "  laisser  filtrer,"  everything  that  makes 
Realism  what  it  is,  plus  everything  that  makes  Idealism 
what  it  is,  on  the  one  hand,  the  "  real "  space  of  mathe- 
matics on  which  all  the  laws  and  conclusions  of  physics 
are  based,  on  the  other  hand  all  psychic  and  logical  pro- 
cesses which  have  no  immediate  relation  to  action,  of  which 
action  is  not  the  object  and  the  aim,  this  is  indeed  to 
escape  both  Realism  and  Idealism ;  it  is  to  escape  all  meta- 
physics ;  but  it  is  hardly  to  "  resoudre  les  contradictions," 
or  to  "  faire  tomber  les  insurmontables  barrieres,"  or  to 
"  rejoindre  la  science." 

But,  when  criticism  has  shown  up  all  its  weak  points,  it 
remains  a  superb  attempt  to  reduce  the  phenomena  of  con- 
sciousness, with  all  its  multitudinous  references  and  loves 
and  interests  to  a  unity  which  shall  not  leave  life  and 
action  out  of  the  account.  For  it  is  true  that  in  action, 
in  life  taken  in  the  thick  as  it  is  lived,  we  do  get  a  fusion 
of  perception  and  of  memory  and  interest  and  will,  of 
time  and  space,  in  a  continuity  and  oneness  which  knows 
nothing  of  the  contradictions,  the  dilemmas,  the  pre- 
suppositions, the  infinite  dividings  and  limitings  of  the 
intellect. 

It  is  no  less  true  that  neither  Life  nor  action  in  itself 
will  deliver  the  secret  of  that  fusion  and  that  continuity. 

In.  the  very  effort  to  escape  those  contradictions  and 
dilemmas  M.  Bergson  has  added  to  them  those  special 
contradictions  and  fallen  into  those  special  dilemmas  of 
his  own  which  I  have  just  tried  to  make  clear. 

And  what  has  happened  to  M.  Bergson  is  what  happens 
to  every  philosopher  who  is  out  looking  for  his  unity  in 
the  wrong  place.  That  is  to  say,  he  has  put  Pure  Time 
before  the  Self.  He  has  given  to  Time  that  special  form 
of  continuity,  the  duration  that  belongs  only  to  a  self. 
He  has  made  Pure  Time  in  which  action  happens  the  be- 
ginning that  it  cannot  be,  and  thus  brought  it  again  under 


64  A  DEFENCE  OF  IDEALISM 

all  the  categories  of  spurious  time.  To  avoid  the  pitfalls 
that  await  him  as  the  result  of  his  rash  choice  in  priori- 
ties, he  has  transferred  all  the  contradictions  and  dilemmas 
of  spurious  time  to  space,  in  the  evident  hope  that  they 
will  find  reconciliation  and  solution  there.  Moreover,  to 
escape  the  net  of  illusion  he  has  thus  prepared  for  himself, 
he  gives  to  space  —  which  he  has  identified  with  spurious 
time  —  the  purity  and  reality  he  denies  to  spurious  time. 
He  is  bound  to  do  this  in  the  interests  of  that  "  outside 
world  "  which  is  the  playground  of  the  Elan  Vital  —  that 
is  to  say,  in  the  interests  of  that  ultimate  dualism  in  which 
Vitalism  begins  and  ends. 

But  he  has  shown  us  that  time  and  space  are  correla- 
tives, and  that  neither  is  to  be  thought  of  without  the  other, 
that  they  work  in  and  out  of  each  other  and  play  into  each 
other's  hands.  We  are  aware,  both  of  the  position  of 
objects  in  space  and  of  the  movement  of  objects  from  point 
to  point  in  space,  which  is  as  it  were  a  sort  of  succession 
in  space.  We  are  aware,  both  of  the  succession  of  events 
in  time  and  of  their  simultaneity,  which  is  as  it  were  a 
sort  of  stationariness  in  time.  But  it  is  neither  space  in 
itself  nor  time  in  itself  which  is  holding  objects  together. 
With  pure  space  alone  you  will  never  construct  a  synthesis 
of  objects  in  space,  nor  with  pure  time  alone  a  synthesis 
of  events  in  time ;  but  if  either  construction  is  to  be  valid 
and  intelligible  a  synthesis  must  be  made  of  both. 

And  that  construction  and  that  synthesis,  if  it  is  to  be 
at  all,  will  depend  in  the  last  resort  on  personal  identity, 
on  an  unchanging  self. 

On  any  theory  except  that  of  the  "  mechanical  equiva- 
lent," the  construction  and  the  synthesis  will  be  made  in 
the  last  resort  in  consciousness,  whether  it  repeats  or 
whether  it  corresponds  with  the  arrangements  of  the  inde- 
pendent "  Real,"  or  whether  construction  and  synthesis  in 
consciousness  is  all  the  constniction  and  synthesis  there  is. 

For,  if  the  self  changed  to  each  member  of  a  final  syn- 


VITALISM  65 

thesis,  or  to  each  member  of  an  incomplete  and  provisional 
synthesis,  if  it  changed  to  each  term  of  the  intricate  system 
of  relations  within  each  synthesis  —  to  all  the  multitudi- 
nous changing  events  in  time,  to  all  the  multitudinous 
changing  objects  in  space  —  if  it  had  no  unity  and  no  dura- 
tion, there  would  not  only  be  no  final  synthesis,  but  no 
synthesis  anywhere  at  all. 

There  would,  obviously,  be  no  time,  and  (not  quitp  so 
obviously)  no  space.     Certainly  no  perception  of  space. 

And  this  is  positively  the  last  opportunity  for  the  up- 
holders of  the  superior  necessity  and  priority  of  Memory. 
They  may  say,  with  the  most  perfect  obviousness :  Much 
more  obviously  there  would  be  no  time  and  no  perception 
of  space  without  memory. 

For,  if  time  is  the  form  of  inner  perception,  and  space 
is  the  form  of  outer  perception,  is  not  memory  the  syn- 
thesis of  both  ? 

But  is  it  ?  Could  it  be  ?  Because  memory  holds  to- 
gether all  remembered  objects  in  space  and  all  remembered 
events  in  time,  does  it  follow  that  it  is  responsible  for  the 
synthesis  of  time  and  space  taken  together?  Or  for  the 
entire  synthesis  under  each  head  ? 

It  would  not  be  possible  unless  all  consciousness,  and 
time  and  space  themselves,  were  nothing  but  memory. 
But  what  of  the  original  synthesis  —  the  perception  of 
objects  in  space?  What  of  the  perception  of  the  first 
member  of  a  series  in  time  ?  Because  they  have  been 
buried  under  layers  upon  layers  of  repeated  images  that 
are  memories  you  cannot  say  that  there  never  was  any 
original  synthesis,  never  any  perception  of  a  first  member 
of  a  series.  And  we  are  continually  confronted  with  new 
arrangements  of  old  material,  new  successions  in  time,  new 
juxtapositions  in  space,  and  though  the  material  is  old, 
recognized,  therefore,  and  remembered  as  much  as  per- 
ceived, the  synthesis  is  new.  The  new  perceptions,  the 
new  synthesis  escape  for  ever  the  net  of  memory. 


66  A  DEFENCE  OF  IDEALISM 

What  then  holds  perception  and  memory  together  ? 

And  is  it  more  truly  memory  or  the  Self  that  makes  us 
"  seize  in  one  unique  intuition  the  multiple  moments  of 
duration,  frees  us  from  the  movement  of  the  flux  of  things, 
from  the  rhythm  of  necessity  "  ? 


Ill 

SOME  ULTIMATE  QUESTIONS  OE 
PSYCHOLOGY 

In  what,  then,  does  Individuality  consist?  Not  in  our 
memories,  even  supposing  that  they  are  pure,  for  we  have 
seen  that  they  presuppose  us.  Not  in  our  individual  ex- 
periences, in  the  fact  that  such  and  such  things  hap- 
pened to  us  and  to  nobody  else;  for  this  is  to  plant  our 
individuality  outside  ourselves  in  precisely  those  events 
over  which  it  has  least  control.  Besides,  we  have  no 
reason  to  suppose  that  our  experience  is  unique  and  every 
reason  to  suppose  the  contrary.  Still,  when  we  reflect,  we 
do  suppose  it,  in  the  sense,  not  that  our  experiences  are  in 
any  way  extraordinary,  but  that  precisely  this  order  and 
arrangement  of  experiences  which  we  call  ours  has  never 
occurred  before. 

But  no  possible  arrangement  of  experiences  will  yield 
or  make  recognizable  a  self  that  is  not  presupposed  in  the 
arrangement  and  has  had  no  hand  in  it.  We  have  a  sense 
of  individuality ;  we  find,  if  we  look  for  it,  that  we  have  a 
sort  of  self-feeling.  I  do  not  mean  self-consciousness.  I 
am  not  thinking  of  our  general  feeling  of  possessing  a  body, 
a  feeling  which  is  made  up  of  muscular  sensations  more  or 
less  insistent,  and  of  visceral  sensations  more  or  less  vague. 
I  am  not  thinking  of  what  is  called  feeling-tone,^^  for  this 
may  differ,  if  not  from  moment  to  moment,  from  day  to 
day,  or  even  from  hour  to  hour.  All  these  feelings  which 
come  to  us  through  our  bodies  help  our  sense  of  individu- 
ality. But  I  am  thinking  of  something  more  akin  to 
memory,  of  that  feeling  which  is  not  memory  but  which 

67 


68  A  DEFENCE  OF  IDEALISM 

accompanies  it  and  gives  it  the  quality  which  makes  it 
ours,  saturating  it  like  a  perfume,  staining  it  like  a  colour, 
always  recognizable  as  the  same  perfume  and  the  same 
stain.  To  place  our  individuality  in  self-feeling  is  so  far 
satisfactory  that  it  does  at  least  attempt  to  explain  why  our 
memories  are  recognizable  as  ours.  It  is  as  if  we  scented 
ourselves  out  all  along  our  track.  I  may  say  I  do  not 
know  whether  my  experience  is  really  mine,  or  whether  I 
am  simply  part  of  an  experience  labelled  mine  for  con- 
venience' sake;  or,  granting  that  I  am  I,  I  still  do  not 
know  from  moment  to  moment  whether  I  am  the  same  self, 
or  whether  another  self  arises  on  the  top  of  me  and  takes 
possession  of  my  memories ;  but  I  do  know  that  something 
reacts  with  the  same  feeling  to  all  my  memories  all  along 
the  line,  that  it  is  reacting  now  to  the  contents  of  my  im- 
mediate consciousness,  and  that  when  I  dream  I  shall  find 
it  in  my  dreams ;  and  I  take  it  that  this  something  either 
is  me,  or  involves  somewhere  a  continuous  and  not  a  dis- 
crete me. 

Does  self -feeling  yield  the  secret  of  individuality  ? 

No.  Self-feeling  helps  to  fix  our  floating  sense  of  in- 
dividuality, and  so  far  justifies  us  in  calling  it  self-feeling; 
and  no  doubt  it  enters  largely  into  the  building  up  of  the 
superstition  of  the  self.  But  our  sense  of  individuality  is 
one  thing  and  the  existence  of  the  self  another.  Mere  self- 
feeling  goes  no  way  towards  proving  that  the  self  is  more 
than  a  superstition.  Self-feeling,  though  a  fairly  contin- 
uous accompaniment  of  memory,  is  vague;  and  from  its 
peculiar  vibrant  emotional  quality  we  may  suspect  it  to  be 
nothing  more  than  a  sort  of  general  reverberation  of  the 
memories  themselves.  Even  if  it  be  something  more  than 
that,  it  is  something  that  accompanies  consciousness  and 
not  anything  that  could  conceivably  bind  it  together  and 
make  it  one.  And  if  Personal  Identity  is  nothing  more 
than  such  an  accompaniment  it  will  fare  no  better  than  if 
it  were  nothing  more  than  memory. 


SOME  QUESTIONS  OF  PSYCHOLOGY      69 

But  what  about  that  peculiar  vibrant  and  emotional 
quality  we  noted  ?  This  accompaniment  of  self -feeling  is 
not  always  the  same.  It  has  degrees  of  intensity;  it  at- 
taches itself  more  to  some  memories  than  others;  it  is 
stirred  to  a  stronger  glow  by  some  associations  than  by 
others.  It  seems  to  know  and  to  remember  almost  "  on 
its  own."  It,  then,  has  preferences.  In  short,  self-feel- 
ing, this  indestructible  haunter  of  memories,  has  about  it 
more  than  a  suggestion  of  the  Will-to-live  in  its  aspect  of 
interest  and  desire. 

Are  we  to  say,  then,  that  the  secret  of  Personal  Identity 
and  Individuality  is  to  be  found  in  Will  ? 

This  certainly  seems  to  bring  us  nearer  to  the  root  of 
the  matter.  And  it  has  the  advantage  of  being  definitely 
thinkable  as  antecedent  to  experience,  and  therefore  to 
memory,  and  of  being  traceable  in  the  lowest  conceivable 
germ  of  Personality  —  the  will-to-live,  the  need  to  appear, 
to  grow,  to  reproduce  the  self,  to  gather  experience  and 
appear  more  and  more.  In  a  sense  it  is  the  stronghold  of 
individuality.  For  it  is  with  his  will  that  the  individual 
fences  himself  off  and  asserts  himself  against  other  indi- 
viduals. It  is  with  his  will,  in  the  form  of  interest  and 
love,  that  he  draws  near  to  them  and  is  drawn,  and  so 
makes  his  personality  greater  through  theirs  and  theirs 
through  him.  And  at  every  stage  of  his  biological  ascen- 
sion it  is  his  will  that  is  the  mainspring  of  his  sublima- 
tions. It  is  through  his  will,  through  his  need,  want,  de- 
sire, interest,  affection,  love,  that  he  appears  as  self-deter- 
mined. 

It  is  his  will  as  energy  that,  whether  in  resistance  or 
obedience,  knits  him  to  the  forces  of  the  "  real "  world 
outside  himself. 

It  is  his  will  that  in  submitting  or  aspiring,  in  adora- 
tion or  in  longing,  links  him  to  the  immanent  and  tran- 
scendent Reality  that  he  calls  God. 

The  perfect  individual  is  the  person  perfectly  adapted 


70  A  DEFENCE  OF  IDEALISM 

to  reality  through  the  successive  sublimations  of  his  will. 
It  is  clear  that  the  will  of  such  a  creature  is  not,  any 
more  than  his  perception  or  his  memory,  concerned  with 
action  only. 

Before  we  go  farther  let  us  take  stock  of  our  results  so  far. 

We  have  refused  to  identify  the  self  entirely  with  its 
own  memories,  to  find  the  secret  of  personality  in  the  fact 
that  such  and  such  experiences  have  been  ours ;  for  this  is 
to  plant  our  personality  outside,  in  extraneous  and  prob- 
ably accidental  happenings,  without  taking  account  of  its 
interior  reactions ;  besides  begging  the  possible  question  of 
its  existence. 

We  found  a  faint  aroma  of  selfhood  in  the  self -feeling 
that  accompanies  consciousness;  and  though  this  may  be, 
and  very  probably  is,  due  to  some  inner  working  of  a  self, 
and  though  it  has  a  warmth  and  intimacy  that  we  look  for 
in  vain  in  what  we  call  "  self-consciousness,"  it  was  not 
comprehensive  enough  for  us  to  hope  to  find  in  it  the  secret 
of  selfhood. 

So  far  as  that  secret  is  discoverable  at  all,  we  seem  to 
find  it  in  the  Will.  The  will  seems  to  us  at  once  the  most 
ancient,  the  most  comprehensive,  and  the  most  intimately 
self-revealing  of  the  powers  of  self.  It  seems  the  surest 
and  the  most  conspicuous  bridge  from  the  inner  to  the 
outer  world.  Also  we  have  seen  every  reason  for  suppos- 
ing that  processes  and  actions  which  are  now  involuntary 
and  unconscious  were  once  conscious  and  willed;  we  had 
even  some  reason  for  supposing  that  the  very  machinery 
of  such  processes  may  have  been  built  up  gradually  under 
the  impulse  of  the  will ;  that  the  will,  working  through 
countless  generations,  may  be  itself  the  builder  and  the 
engineer  of  our  bodily  and  mental  machinery. 

We  considered  the  theory  of  Vitalism,  with  its  assump- 
tion of  Matter  as  an  independent  outside  solid  substance 
offering  itself  to  the  "  grip  "  of  Spirit  and  carved  by  our 


SOME  QUESTIONS  OF  PSYCHOLOGY      71 

needs  as  by  a  knife.  We  found  that  this  theory,  and  its 
attempt  to  base  perception  and  memory  upon  action  only 
ends  in  contradiction  and  dilemma;  and  we  concluded 
that  to  refer  will  likewise  to  action  only  is  to  ignore  the 
actual  range  of  desire  and  interest  and  love. 

So  wide  is  that  range  that  we  might  well  rest  in  the  con- 
clusion apparently  forced  on  us  that  the  will  is  the  Self. 

And  yet,  if  we  were  to  put  our  conclusion  to  the  test,  we 
should  find  that,  though  it  has  served  us  so  far  infinitely 
better  than  self-feeling  and  memory,  though,  so  to  speak, 
there  is  more  self  in  will  than  in  memory  or  self-feeling,  it 
still  falls  short  of  complete  selfhood;  because,  though  in- 
timate and  comprehensive  —  more  intimate  than  either 
memory  or  self-feeling  —  it  is  not  comprehensive  enough ; 
not  nearly  so  comprehensive,  in  fact,  as  memory.  It  will 
not  give  us  the  synthesis  we  want ;  the  synthesis  of  all  our 
states  of  consciousness,  itself  included;  so  far  as  will  is  a 
state  of  consciousness  at  all. 

That  is  to  say,  so  far  as  consciousness  includes  states 
which  are  not  states  of  willing,  but  states  of  feeling,  per- 
ceiving, remembering,  conceiving,  judging,  reasoning  and 
imagining,  the  unity  of  consciousness  cannot  be  found  in 
Will. 

We  have  now  three  alternatives.  A  complete  irreconcil- 
able dualism  between  Will  and  Idea :  a  dualism  that  may 
fall  "  outside  "  consciousness,  between  the  Will  as  the  Un- 
conscious and  consciousness  as  the  Idea ;  or  that  may  fall 
"  inside "  consciousness  itself,  in  which  case  it  is  all 
up  with  the  unity  of  consciousness;  or  a  partal  dualism 
within  consciousness,  which  allows  of  the  interpenetration 
of  Will  and  Idea,  and  of  interaction  between  them,  without 
necessarily  admitting  selfhood  as  the  unity  of  all  conscious 
states. 

(These  two  forms  of  dualism  will  face  us  equally, 
whether  we  regard  consciousness  as  a  by-product  of  the 


72  A  DEFENCE  OF  IDEALISM 

physical  mechanism,  or  as  wholly  or  partially  independent 
of  it.) 

Or  there  is  a  unity  of  selfhood,  of  personal  identity, 
prior  to  consciousness  as  its  condition,  or  arising  with  it,  at 
any  rate,  in  no  sense  arising  from  it,  a  unity  in  which  alone 
Will  and  Idea  can  be  held  together. 

For  it  may  be  argued  —  it  is  argued  with  extreme 
plausibility  —  that  Will  and  Idea  are  in  no  more  awkward 
position  than  any  other  two  states  of  consciousness  con- 
sidered out  of  relation  with  each  other;  and  that  when 
they  are  taken  in  relation,  the  very  relations  themselves 
provide  all  the  plaster  necessary  to  stick  them  together; 
that  this  will  hold  good  whether  the  relations  are  regarded 
as  thought  relations  in  consciousness,  or  as  "  real "  rela- 
tions outside  it ;  that  if  these  relations  do  not  and  cannot 
bind,  there  is  no  conceivable  unity  that,  added  to  them,  will 
do  their  binding  for  them;  while  if  they  do  bind  that  is 
enough ;  it  is  at  any  rate  all  we  have  any  right  to  ask.  For 
instance,  will  and  idea  come  together  and  are  sufficiently 
held  together  in  purpose  or  design.  Thus  the  unity  of 
selfhood  is  either  powerless  or  superfluous. 

This  argument  is  much  more  formidable  than  it  looks  at 
first  sight.  So  formidable  that  it  can  only  be  dealt  with 
later  on  when  we  are  considering  the  ultimate  questions 
of  metaphysics.  For  the  moment  our  problem  is  psycho- 
logical. 

^Needless  to  say,  the  hypothesis  of  unity  is  thoroughly  in- 
compatible with  the  mechanical  by-product  theory  of  con- 
sciousness, and  does  not  necessarily  "  go  with  "  the  partial 
independence  theory  in  itself. 

Now  I  have  tried  to  make  it  clear  under  separate  heads 
that  personal  identity  is  not  memory,  is  not  self-feeling,  is 
not  will ;  but  it  may  be  just  possible  that  this  disposing  of 
under  separate  heads  was  the  secret  vice  of  my  whole  pro- 
cedure, and  that,  though  the  self  cannot  be  any  one  of  the 
three,  it  may  very  well  be  all  three  taken  together.     Per- 


SOME  QUESTIONS  OF  PSYCHOLOGY      73 

sonal  identity,  the  self,  the  unity  of  consciousness  may  be 
the  sum  of  our  states  of  consciousness  taken  together,  and 
it  may  be  nothing  more ;  in  such  sort  that  when  there  are 
no  more  states  of  consciousness  there  is  no  more  personal 
identity. 

And  though  I  have  stated  repeatedly  that  this  unity  and 
this  sum  presuppose  personal  identity,  I  am  aware  that 
logical  presupposition  is  not  enough  unless  it  can  be  shown 
that  this  unity  is  more  than  a  sum,  and  that  it  is  of  such  a 
sort  that  it  is  not  only  unthinkable,  but  unworkable  with- 
out personal  identity. 

It  should  not  be  forgotten  that  there  was  another  alter- 
native, the  mechanical  by-product  theory,  the  theory  on 
which  consciousness  is,  as  it  were,  given  off  (like  a  gas) 
by  the  neural  processes  which  are  its  physical  antecedents 
and  correlates,  is  resolvable  into  them,  and  ceases  when 
they  cease. 

If  I  have  not  paused  to  dispose  of  this  theory  before 
going  further  it  is  because  I  mean  to  return  to  it  also  later 
on.  Meanwhile,  if  we  succeed  in  establishing  personal 
identity  as  a  working  hypothesis,  the  indispensable  con- 
dition of  consciousness  as  we  know  it,  the  importance  (for 
Psychology)  of  the  by-product  theory  will  collapse  in  the 
process.^* 

But  Personal  Identity  must  do  something  for  its  living 
before  we  can  be  allowed  to  presuppose  it  in  the  light- 
hearted  manner  of  the  foregoing. 

And  as  I  took  Samuel  Butler  as  a  classic  authority  on 
the  behaviour  of  the  psyche  in  its  human  and  pre-human 
past,  I  am  going  to  take  Mr.  William  McDougall  as  a 
classic  authority  —  and  on  the  whole,  the  clearest,  simplest, 
and  most  convincing  authority  —  on  the  beha\dour  of  the 
psyche  here  and  now.  Not  that  the  two  behaviours  can  be 
separated,  or  that  any  modem  psychologist  would  dream 
of  separating  them,  but  that,  while  one  large  part  of  Mr. 
McDougall's  work  necessarily  overlaps   Butler's,   a  still 


H  A  DEFENCE  OF  IDEALISM 

larger  part  deals  with  psychic  powers  and  processes,  all 
the  synthetic  and  higher  mental  functions  which  Butler 
leaves  untouched.  And  though  a  great  deal  of  Mr.  Mc- 
Dougall's  work  is  necessarily  founded  on  that  of  William 
James  (every  psychologist's  work  is  bound  to  cover  the 
same  ground  as  his  predecessors,  and  Mr.  McDougall 
would  be  the  last  to  claim  a  superior  originality), 
it  also  covers  ground  that  has  appeared  since  the  publica- 
tion of  William  James's  Principles  of  Psychology,  besides 
emphasizing  several  important  points  of  difference,  and 
disengaging  the  ultimate  issue,  if  anything,  with  greater 
clearness  and  directness  and  simplicity. 

So  simple  and  direct  and  clear  is  Mr.  McDougall  that  he 
puts  a  pistol  to  our  heads  and  presents  us  with  two  alter- 
natives and  two  alone:  Psycho-physical  Parallelism  and 
Animism. 

It  should  be  stated  at  once,  for  fear  of  misapprehension, 
that  Mr.  McDougall  does  not  make  his  psychology  a 
diving-board  for  a  plunge  into  metaphysics.  He  tells  us  in 
his  Preface  that  metaphysical  Dualism  is  an  "  implica- 
tion "  he  is  "  anxious  to  avoid."  But  he  will  have  none  of 
Psychic  Monism  on  any  system.  He  affirms  a  distinct 
dualism  between  soul  and  body.  And  it  should  be  borne 
in  mind  that,  in  the  absence  of  any  higher  unifying  princi- 
ple, his  Animism  lands  us  logically  in  the  Pluralistic  Uni- 
verse of  William  James. 

Still,  he  not  only  allows  us  to  have  a  soul,  but  his  aim  is 
to  make  us  see  that,  our  consciousness  being  what  it  is, 
Animism  is  the  only  theory  which  will  be  found  to  work. 

Before  he  consolidates  his  position  he  overhauls  all  the 
alternative  philosophical  theories,  and  finds  that  all  but  two 
are  reducible  to  some  form  or  other  of  Psycho-physical 
Parallelism. 

The  two  outstanding  forms  are  both  Monisms  and  both 
by-product  theories : 

Physical  Monism  or  Materialism,  which  regards  con- 


SOME  QUESTIONS  OF  PSYCHOLOGY      75 

sciousness  as  the  illusory  by-product  of  the  mechanical 
process  of  Matter  (Epiphenomenalism),  and 

Subjective  Idealism  or  Solipsism,  or  Complete  Egoism, 
which  regards  the  whole  universe,  including  matter 
and  its  mechanical  processes,  as  an  illusory  by-product 
of  the  Self  Alone. 

The  three  remaining  forms  are  grouped  under  the  head 
of  Parallelism :  namely 

1.  Strict   Psycho-physical  Parallelism,   which   regards 

physical  processes  and  psychic  processes  as  running 
on  two  parallel  lines  that  never  meet,  and  have  no 
branch  lines  that  intersect  them,  each  line  represent- 
ing a  distinct  and  different  system  of  causation. 
According  to  this  view  there  is  no  sense  in  which 
the  two  may  be  considered  one. 

2.  Phenomenal  Parallelism,  which  regards  physical  proc- 

esses and  psychic  processes  as  two  aspects,  modes 
or  appearances  of  one  underlying  Reality.  They 
run  on  purely  phenomenal  parallel  lines  that  never 
meet.  The  underlying  Reality  is  Spinoza's  Sub- 
stance or  God,  Kant's  Thing-in-Itself,  Herbert 
Spencer's  Unknown  and  Unknowable,  Schopen- 
hauer's and  von  Hartmann's  Unconscious.  All 
these  philosophers  agree  in  regarding  their  under- 
lying Reality  as  neither  mind  nor  matter,  and  in 
declaring  that,  though  it  might  be  a  necessary  pos- 
tulate, it  could  not  be  known. 

They  all  affirm  the  complete  phenomenal  Dual- 
ism of  mind  and  matter.  And  Mr.  McDougall  is 
one  with  their  opponents  in  demonstrating  that  their 
metaphysical  Monism  does  nothing  at  all  to  bridge 
the  gulf.  But  in  deference  to  the  underlying  Un- 
known they  all  figure  as  holders  of  Identity-Hy- 
pothesis A. 

3.  Psychical  Monism,  or  Objective  Idealism  (Identity- 


76  A  DEFENCE  OF  IDEALISM 

Hypothesis  B),  which  regards  all  physical  processes 
and  I^ature,  the  sum  of  them,  as  products  of 
Thought.  It  is  the  redoubtable  theory  of  the  world 
as  "  arising  in  consciousness." 

I  am  following  Mr.  McDougall  rather  than  my  own  in- 
clination in  including  the  Objective  Idealist  as  a  Parallel- 
liner.  Eut  Mr.  McDougall's  classification  will  serve  my 
purpose  as  well,  for  his  sinister  intention  is  to  expose 
the  latent  dualism  of  that  system,  not  in  the  interests  of  any 
metaphysical  Monism  he  may  have  up  his  sleeve  nor  yet 
of  a  Pluralistic  Universe,  for  he  does  not  exalt  his  souls 
to  ultimate  principles,  but  for  the  sake  of  the  cross  corre- 
spondence he  is  to  prove. 

I  do  not  think  that  Mr.  McDougall's  dealings  with 
"  Psychical  Monism "  are  always  entirely  satisfactory. 
Objective  Idealists  might  object  to  being  called  Psychical 
Monists,  and  they  would  certainly  be  surprised  to  find 
their  universe  described  as  the  "  shadow  of  thought." 
Again,  I  think  Mr.  McDougall  somewhat  underrates  the 
importance  of  strict  Psycho-physical  Parallelism,  which  is, 
after  all,  his  real,  or  at  any  rate,  his  legitimate  adversary. 
For  in  an  encounter  with  any  of  the  alternative  systems  he 
runs  the  risk  of  attacking  ultimate  metaphysical  principles 
with  merely  psychological  weapons ;  that  is  to  say,  he  may 
be  carrying  an  argument  that  holds  good  in  one  sphere  into 
another  where  it  may  not  hold  good  at  all.  Moreover,  his 
own  theory  of  Animism  —  interaction  and  all  —  is  by  no 
means  incompatible  with  "  Identity-Hypothesis  A,"  for 
which  the  soul  itself  may  figure  as  a  phenomenon  or  aspect 
of  the  underlying  Eeality. 

We  will  see  how  he  disposes  of  his  five  alternative 
theories. 

Materialism,  and  Subjective  Idealism,  the  mechanical 
by-product  and  Self -Alone  theories  fall  an  easy  prey. 

Materialism  has  on  its  side  a  formidable  array  of  argu- 
ments from  facts.     It  can  point  to  certain  undeniable  and 


SOME  QUESTIONS  OF  PSYCHOLOGY      77 

invariable  sequences  of  cause  and  effect.  All  sorts  of  dis- 
turbances and  alterations  of  consciousness  arise  when 
poisons  are  introduced  into  the  blood,  from  the  excitement 
or  stupor  of  intoxication  to  the  profound  coma  of  Bright's 
disease.  Again,  my  brain  processes  slacken  down,  and  I 
pass  into  the  unconsciousness  of  dreamless  sleep.  They 
are  interfered  with  by  the  rupture  of  a  blood-vessel,  and, 
either  special  departments  of  my  consciousness  are  inter- 
fered with,  or  I  lose  consciousness  altogether,  or  for  so  long 
as  the  interference  lasts,  that  is  to  say,  according  to  the 
extent  and  persistence  of  the  lesion.  My  brain  processes 
cease  altogether,  and  —  the  inference  seems  too  obvious  to 
state. 

And  yet  the  extreme  conclusion  does  not  follow  unless 
materialism  can  show  that  physical  processes  give  rise  to 
consciousness  in  the  first  place.  If  they  cannot,  there  will 
be  no  need  to  infer  that  their  ceasing  must  cause  its  extinc- 
tion. And  ultimately  the  argument  for  materialism  rests 
on  two  laws  and  a  corollary :  the  law  of  causation,  according 
to  which  the  cause  passes  over  into  its  effect,  and  is  dis- 
cernible therein ;  and  the  law  of  the  conservation  of  energy, 
according  to  which  all  the  energy  in  the  universe  is  a  con- 
stant quantity  which  can  neither  be  added  to  nor  dimin- 
ished ;  ^^  the  corollary  being  the  biological  law  of  the  con- 
tinuity of  evolution.  Mr.  McDougall  points  out  (Body 
and  Blind,  Pages  150,  151)  that  the  mechanical  theory 
of  consciousness  saves  the  law  of  conservation  of  energy  at 
the  expense  of  the  law  of  causation ;  for  there  is  no  sense 
in  which  it  can  be  said  that  molecular  change,  the  presumed 
"  cause  "  of  sensation,  passes  over  into  its  effect.  It  also 
breaks  the  biological  law;  since,  however  undefined,  how- 
ever dim  the  borders  between  the  conscious  and  the  uncon- 
scious, there  could  hardly  be  a  greater  breach  of  continuity 
than  the  appearance  of  consciousness  when  it  finally 
emerges  at  some  point  in  the  course  of  evolution. 

As  for  the  Subjective  Idealist  or  the  Self-Aloner,  Mr. 


78  A  DEFENCE  OF  IDEALISM 

McDougall  does  not  take  the  trouble  to  demolish  him,  re- 
garding the  mere  statement  of  his  case  as  sufficient  demon- 
stration of  its  absurdity.  "  With  the  Solipsist  we  cannot 
argue,  but  all  of  us  are  agreed  that  Solipsism  is  an  impos- 
sible attitude  for  a  sane  man."  -^ 

So  that  the  true  alternative,  the  real  opponent  is  Psycho- 
physical Parallelism  in  its  three  forms:  Identity-Hypo- 
thesis A,  Identity-Hypothesis  B,  and  Strict  Psycho-phys- 
ical Parallelism. 

The  theory  of  the  "  two  aspects  "  and  the  Underlying 
Identity  (Identity-Hypothesis  A)  is  open  to  the  objection 
that  as  the  "  aspects  "  are  "  two  events  of  radically  differ- 
ent orders  and  are  apprehended  in  two  radically  different 
ways,"  that  is  to  say,  are  incommensurable  and  devoid  of 
any  common  term,  they  are  not  intelligibly  referable  to  any 
real  process  underlying  them. 

I  confess  I  cannot  understand  Mr.  McDougall's  "  still 
more  serious  objection."  He  says  very  tnily  that  a  thing 
can  appear  under  two  different  aspects  "  only  if  and  when 
both  aspects  are  apprehended  by  the  mind  of  some  ob- 
server " ;  and  he  argues  that  because 

"  in  the  case  of  the  physical  and  the  psychical  processes  which 
are  said  to  be  the  aspects  of  one  real  process,  there  is  no  such 
observer  occupying  the  inner  standpoint  and  apprehending  the 
inner  or  psychical  aspect  of  the  real  event,  except  in  the  alto- 
gether exceptional  case  of  the  introspecting  psychologist," 
(^Body  and  Mind,  Pages  157, 158) ; 

therefore,  neither  the  real  event,  nor  the  physical  event  nor 
the  psychic  event  are  apprehended  at  all.  All  we  know  of 
the  real  event  is  its  two  aspects;  and  all  we  know  of  the 
physical  event  is  known,  not  in  its  own  terms,  but  in  terms 
of  consciousness  which  is  the  other  aspect ;  and  only  a  con- 
sciousness that  was  aware  of  its  own  brain  processes 
could  occupy  the  position  of  observer  of  the  inner  event. 
Surely  all  that  the  theory  takes  for  granted  is  the  un- 


SOME  QUESTIONS  OF  PSYCHOLOGY      Y9 

deniable  fact  of  a  stream  of  consciousness,  and  the  unde- 
niable fact  of  a  stream  of  physical  events ;  on  the  one  hand, 
the  mysterious  behaviour  of  mind,  on  the  other  the  mys- 
terious behaviour  of  matter,  including  our  brain  processes 
(which  are  part  of  the  outer  and  not  of  the  inner  event), 
and  is  not  obliged  to  presuppose  an  inner  spectator  of  the 
entire  inner  stream.  You  might  as  v^ell  argue  that,  as  the 
physical  events  are  only  apprehended  partially  and  not 
entirely,  the  underlying  reality  is  not  manifested  in  them. 
The  real  crux  of  the  position  being,  not  that  there  is  no 
spectator  of  the  inner  event,  but  that  there  is  one  inner 
spectator  of  both  outer  and  inner  events ;  while  of  the  real 
event  there  is  not  any  spectator  at  all;  and  while  both 
aspects  are  to  some  extent  given,  and  both  to  some  extent 
known,  the  underlying  reality  (substance  or  process)  in 
which  both  are  one,  remains  unknown  and  unknowable. 
A  situation  baffling  to  the  intelligence ;  yet  its  supporters 
might  answer  that  they  can't  help  it  if  it  is,  and  that  intelli- 
gences were  born  to  be  baffled. 

Next  comes  the  theory  of  Psycliical  Monism  or  Objective 
Idealism;  the  theory  of  Consciousness  as  the  All,  the  Only 
Reality,  and  of  the  world  as  arising  in  consciousness. 

This  theory  is  held  in  too  many  forms  to  be  broken  quite 
so  easily  as  Mr.  McDougall  breaks  it,  on  the  "  unity  of  con- 
sciousness," though  his  argument  is  destructive  to  the  loose 
Monism  of  his  own  principal  opponents. 

"  My  consciousness  is  a  stream  of  consciousness  which  has  a 
certain  unique  unity;  it  is  a  multiplicity  of  distinguishable 
parts  or  features  which,  although  they  are  perpetually  changing, 
yet  hang  together  as  a  continuous  whole  within  which  the 
changes  go  on.  This  then  is  the  nature  of  consciousness  as  we 
know  it.  Now  it  is  perfectly  obvious  and  universally  admitted 
that  my  stream  of  consciousness  is  not  self-supporting,  is  not 
self-sufficient,  is  not  a  closed,  self-determining  system ;  it  is  ad- 
mitted that  each  phase  of  the  stream  does  not  flow  wholly  out  of 
the  preceding  phase,  and  that  its  course  cannot  be  explained 
without  the  assumption  of  influences  coming  upon  it  from  with- 


80  A  DEFENCE  OF  IDEALISM 

out.  What  then  are  those  influences?  The  Psychical  Monist 
must  reply  —  They  are  other  consciousnesses.  How  then  about 
the  process  by  which  the  other  consciousnesses,  the  other  streams 
of  consciousness,  influence  my  stream  of  consciousness  ?  Is  this 
also  consciousness?  (For,  we  are  told,  all  process  is  conscious 
process.)  If  so,  it  also  is  a  stream  of  consciousness,  and  it  must 
influence  my  stream  through  the  agency  of  yet  another  stream, 
and  so  on  ad  infinitum.  Thus  my  consciousness  itself,  by  rea- 
son of  the  fact  that  it  hangs  together  as  a  stream  of  process 
relatively  independent  of  other  streams  of  process,  implies  the 
essence  of  what  is  meant  by  substantiality,  namely,  the  con- 
tinuing to  have  or  to  be  a  numerically  distinct  existence,  in  spite 
of  partial  change."     (Body  and  Mind,  Pages  162,  163.) 

The  fact  of  the  unity  of  consciousness  can  certainly  not 
be  accounted  for  or  explained  on  the  simple  theory  of  con- 
sciousness as  a  stream  or  streams,  or  as  any  sequence  or 
even  conglomeration  of  merely  "  associated  "  states.  The 
inner  weakness  of  this  form  of  Psychical  Monism  is  con- 
fessed by  one  of  its  ablest  representatives,  Professor  C.  A, 
Strong,  who  turns  up  more  than  once  in  Mr.  McDougall's 
pages  with  his  distressful  query,  "  What  holds  consciousness 
together  ? "  As  it  is  manifestly  impossible  to  get  any 
unity  out  of  a  stream,  or  rather  out  of  many  streams,  he  is 
driven  to  the  hypothesis  of  "  psychical  dispositions  "  as  a 
substitute  for  a  soul.  But  psychical  dispositions  must 
either  also  be  part  of  the  stream  or  streams ;  in  which  case 
it  is  not  easy  to  see  how  unity  is  to  be  got  out  of  them ;  or 
they  must  be  "  raised  to  the  rank  of  extra  mental  realities, 
and  a  system  of  such  realities  neither  '  simple '  nor  *  un- 
divided,' yet  quite  sufficiently  active,  will  form  our  substi- 
tute for  the  soul,"  so  good  a  substitute  that  Mr.  McDougall 
sees  no  difference  between  this  theory  and  Animism. 

I  am  still  following  Mr.  McDougall,  and  for  the  moment 
I  must  ignore,  as  he  does,  the  older  theories  of  Objective 
Idealism.  Its  adherents,  so  far  from  regarding  conscious- 
ness as  a  flux,  saw  it  held  together  in  a  firm  net  of  "  thought- 
relations  "  to  which  it  owes  its  "  objectivity."     For  them 


SOME  QUESTIONS  OF  PSYCHOLOGY       81 

the  unity  of  consciousness  was  as  the  very  rock  of  their  be- 
lief. 

Mr.  McDougall,  like  his  opponents,  Professor  Strong, 
Professor  Paulsen,  Professor  Miinsterberg,  and  all  the  wit- 
nesses to  Psychical  Monism  whom  he  summons  up,  look 
upon  consciousness  both  as  a  stream  and  as  something  es- 
sentially disjointed ;  and  they  all  cry  aloud  for  something  to 
"  hold  it  together."  He  has  no  difficulty  in  breaking  all 
their  backs  one  after  the  other  over  the  "  unity  of  conscious- 
ness," and  finally  settling  them  with  the  problem  of  un- 
consciousness. It  is  obvious  that  a  stream  of  conscious- 
ness, even  with  central  whirlpools  in  it  of  psychical  disposi- 
tions, cannot  have  periods  or  even  moments  of  unconscious- 
ness without  ceasing  to  exist.  There  are  other  arguments, 
drawn  from  other  qualities  of  consciousness ;  but  these  two 
are  sufficient  for  the  destruction  of  the  Psychical  Monists. 
Eechner,  the  author  of  strict  Psycho-physical  Parallelism, 
is  twice  broken,  once  as  a  Parallelist,  and  once  as  a  Psy- 
chical-Monist. 

It  is  hard  to  see  why  Fechner  should  be  involved  in  the 
special  ruin  of  the  Psychical  Monists ;  though  he  certainly 
held  a  somewhat  unstable  position  mid-way.  Fechner's 
case  is  peculiar.  He  starts  with  a  vigorous  Parallelism, 
and  then,  by  what  seems  the  masterly  inconsistency  of  his 
enthusiasm,  lands  himself  in  Psychical  Monism  with  his 
theory  of  Pan-Psychism.  All  the  same,  he  never  abated 
one  jot  of  his  Parallelism  in  his  serious  Psycho-Physik. 
But  his  Pan-Psychism  lands  him  peacefully  in  Animism, 
side  by  side  with  Mr.  McDougall,  so  far  as  he  gives  the 
ghost  of  personal  identity  to  his  souls.^'^ 

But  after  all,  what  does  his  inconsistency  amount  to? 
He  held  that  wherever  we  find  matter  we  find  mind  in 
some  degree,  however  low.  Not  the  smallest  grain  of  in- 
organic dust  that  has  not  its  psyche.  And  he  held  that 
wherever  we  find  mind  we  find  matter.  This  position  he 
defended  to  the  last  against  all  his  opponents.     So  far 


82  A  DEFENCE  OF  IDEALISM 

Fechner  must  be  judged  a  Parallel-liner.  Inside  his  sys- 
tem he  is  almost  fanatically  consistent.  But  he  had  an 
imaginative  genius  that  would  have  been  dangerous  to  any 
system,  and  it  carried  him  far  beyond  the  limits  of  his 
own. 

But  when  we  come  to  the  strict  Psycho-physical  Paral- 
lel-liners, back-breaking  isn't  quite  so  simple  a  matter. 
For  they  are  the  people  who  are  punctiliously  just  in 
weighing  the  claims  of  both  sides ;  they  refuse  on  any  con- 
sideration to  let  the  balance  tip  to  one  or  the  other.  And 
as  Mr.  McDougall  is,  if  anything,  still  more  punctilious 
and  still  more  just,  it  is  not  so  easy  for  him  to  make  out 
a  case  for  Animism  against  them.  They  are  less  vulner- 
able because  less  adventurous. 

Fechner's  follower,  Wundt,  who  outdoes  his  master  in 
simple  Parallelism,  is  a  formidable  adversary,  whose  views 
require  rather  more  detailed  consideration.  He  lays  down 
his  parallel  lines  with  laborious  science  and  strenuousness, 
and  he  runs  his  system  along  them  with  sobriety  and  dis- 
cretion. If  it  leaves  the  rails  it  is  not  because  Wundt  al- 
lows himself  to  be  distracted  by  ecstatic  visions  of  the  cos- 
mic soul. 

Never,  on  Wundt's  theory,  can  the  two  lines,  the  physical 
process  and  the  psychic  process,  hope  to  meet.  Between 
them  there  is  equivalence  and  point  to  point  correspond- 
ence, for  every  neural  change  a  psychic  change ;  for  every 
psychic  change  a  neural  change;  with  a  sequence  so  in- 
variable that  where  we  can  detect  the  one  we  may  infer  the 
other;  but  no  connection,  no  cross-correspondence  from 
line  to  line,  no  interdependence,  no  interaction. 

In  psycho-physical  organisms 

"body  and  soul  are,  for  our  immediate  knowledge,  one  being, 
not  different.  .  .  .  When  from  all  natural  phenomena,  and  there- 
fore from  all  phenomena  of  physical  life,  we  carefully  abstract 
the  psychic  processes,  it  is  obvious  that  from  these  objective 
processes,  thus  stripped  of  their  subjective  side,  subjective  prop- 


SOME  QUESTIONS  OF  PSYCHOLOGY       83 

erties  could  never  be  deduced,  just  as,  vice  versa,  the  deduction 
of  physical  life-processes  from  psychic  experiences  as  such  is 
impossible.  Body  and  soul  are  a  unity,  but  they  are  not  identi- 
cal :  they  are  not  the  same,  but  they  are  properties  that  are  found 
together  in  all  living  beings."  (Physiologische-Psychologie, 
Vol.  Ill,  Chap.  XXII,  Page  767  et  seq.) 

They  are  not  the  same.  How  are  we  to  conceive  the 
relation  between  them  —  their  unity  ?  We  are  to  conceive 
it  as  a  parallelism.  And  the  Law  of  Parallelism  runs 
thus: 

"  Wherever  and  whenever  we  find  ordered  relations  between 
psychical  and  physical  phenomena,  these  are  neither  identical 
nor  interchangeable  (in  einander  transformirhar) .  For  they  are 
not  comparable  one  to  the  other;  but  they  are  related  to  each 
other  in  such  a  way  that  certain  physical  processes  correspond 
regularly  with  certain  psychical  processes ;  or,  to  use  a  figurative 
expression,  they  go  'parallel  to  one  another.'  This  definition, 
which  we  prefer  to  keep  now  that  it  has  been  once  for  all  intro- 
duced into  psycho-physiology  is,  however,  only  half  correct. 
It  expresses  very  aptly  the  fact  that  the  groups  of  phenomena 
here  brought  into  correlation  are  not  identical,  but  not  that  there 
is  no  ground  of  comparison  between  them."     (Ibid.) 

There  is  no  bridge  from  the  mechanical  causality  that 
rules  on  the  physical  line  to  the  teleological  causality  that 
rules  on  the  psychic  line. 

"  Take  the  case  of  an  act  of  will,  try  to  break  up  the  links 
proper  to  the  combined  psycho-physical  series  completely  into 
their  physical  elements;  in  such  a  process  starting  point  and 
ending  point  will  be  connected  up  through  all  the  intermediary 
links  in  the  chain,  and  through  all  the  conditions  that  accom- 
pany them;  but  this  connection  can  never  be  thought  of  other- 
wise than  as  a  purely  causal  one.  Whereas  we  cannot  make  the 
proper  teleological  connection  between  ending  point  and  start- 
ing point  of  the  (psychic)  series  until  after  the  series  is  actually 
completed,  according  to  the  universal  character  of  teleological 
connections."     (Ihid.,  Pages  754,  755.) 

That  is  to  say,  in  tracing  the  steps  of  the  physical  proc- 


84  A  DEFENCE  OF  IDEALISM 

ess  we  go  back  and  find  the  cause  at  the  beginning  and  the 
effect  at  the  end  of  the  series ;  while  in  the  psychic  series 
we  go  forwards  and  find  the  cause  —  the  design  or  purpose 
of  our  act  of  will  —  at  its  end  and  not  at  its  beginning. 
An  act  of  will  has  always  reference  to  the  future,  is 
grounded  in  the  future,  while  the  physical  event  is 
grounded  in  the  past. 

Again,  in  physical  causality,  cause  and  effect  are  equiva- 
lent ;  the  cause  passes  over  into  the  effect,  so  that  there  is 
nothing  in  the  effect  that  was  not  already  contained  in  the 
cause.  In  psychic  causality  the  effect  is  by  no  means  al- 
ready contained  in  the  cause  and  may  be  out  of  all  pro- 
portion to  it.  And,  it  may  be  added,  like  causes  do 
not  necessarily  produce  like  effects.  Only  of  subjective 
motive,  as  distinct  from  objective  end  or  purpose,  can  it 
be  said  that  it  is  already  contained,  not  in  the  actual  result 
of  any  given  action,  but  in  its  general  direction  or  tend- 
ency. The  actual  result  may  be  something  that  goes  far 
beyond  anything  contemplated  in  the  purpose,  something 
for  which  the  motive  is  utterly  inadequate.  For  instance, 
I  want  to  inflict  a  slight  physical  injury  on  my  neighbour 
for  his  good.  Eeformation  is  my  motive,  chastisement  my 
end  or  purpose,  death  by  unrealized  and  undreamed-of 
violence,  the  actual  result.  Neither  violence  nor  death 
were  a  part  of  my  purpose ;  they  are  in  no  way  contained 
in,  nor  are  they  commensurate  with  my  motive ;  but  chas- 
tisement may  be  said  to  be  included  in  my  general  policy 
of  reformation. 

I  suppose  it  is  something  of  this  sort  that  Wundt  means 
by  motives  being  "  already  contained  "  in  the  "  direction  " 
of  these  results,  as  causes  are  in  their  effects. 

"  In  this  sense,"  he  says,  "  every  psychic  connection  of  the 
immediate  contents  of  consciousness  forms  both  a  causal  and  a 
teleologieal  series.  And  that,  not  merely  in  the  general  regres- 
sive sense  which  holds  good  of  all  natural  causality,  but  also 
in  that  specially  progressive  sense  by  which  the  End  itself  be- 


SOME  QUESTIONS  OF  PSYCHOLOGY      85 

comes  cause,  and  as  such  precedes  its  effect.  To  be  sure,  here 
too,  the  end  which,  as  motive,  precedes  its  effect,  is  not  identical 
with  it;  and  thus  far  in  this  case  also  there  remains  a  margin 
of  causality  which  stretches  beyond  causality  itself."  {Physi- 
ologische-Psychologie,  Vol.  Ill,  Chap.  XXII.) 

Teleological  judgment  is  based  on  this  discrepancy  be- 
tween the  end  proposed  and  the  end  accomplished.  It  is  a 
nice  question  of 

"  on  the  one  hand  comparing  such  and  such  results  with  the 
motives  which  inevitably  tend  towards  them  (welche  die  Rich- 
tung  auf  jene  enthalten),  and  on  the  other  hand,  of  valuing 
motives  according  to  the  probable  residts."     (Jhid.) 

It  will  be  seen  at  once  that  Wundt  does  not  by  any 
means  belittle  the  Psychic  role.  He  has  made  over  to  it 
the  whole  realm  of  teleology  —  a  very  handsome  concession 
—  and  of  moral  values.  We  shall  see  how  much  more  he 
has  conceded  when  we  come  to  his  law  of  the  "  creative  re- 
sultants." 

For  the  moment  the  chief  points  to  notice  about  his 
parallel  lines  are,  first,  that  there  is  no  common  term  and 
no  common  value  between  them,  no  bridge  of  any  sort  be- 
tween the  dual  systems  of  mechanical  and  teleological 
causality ;  next,  that  every  causal  change  is  the  last  link  in 
a  series  of  changes  having  their  starting-point  in  the  vast 
physical  universe  outside  the  body;  whereas  the  psychic 
changes  have,  apparently,  no  world  of  equivalent  vastness 
to  which  they  may  be  referred.  On  the  other  hand,  the 
psychic  processes  show  what  William  James  would 
have  called  a  "  thickness  "  of  their  own.  They  are  not 
only  sequences  but  syntheses.  They  not  only  follow  on,  but 
stick  together,  and  stick  together  in  such  a  way  that  the 
whole  has  a  different  quality  from  its  parts;  that  is  to 
say,  it  is  something  more  and  other  than  the  sum  of  the 
several  states  which  compose  it,  and  is  therefore  a  new 
thing. 


86  A  DEFENCE  OF  IDEALISM 

For  this  newness  and  unexpectedness  and  otherness  that 
we  meet  with  in  every  psychic  synthesis,  Wundt  found  an 
admirable  expression  in  his  principle  of  the  "  creative  re- 
sultants."    He  calls  them  "  resultants  "  to  show  that 

"  it  is  from  single  and  empirically  provable  elements,  or  groups 
of  elements,  that  the  synthesis  is  made,  and  in  a  strict  accord- 
ance with  law  analogous  to  that  synthesis  by  which  the  com- 
ponents of  a  mechanical  movement  give  rise  to  their  resultants." 

But  he  qualifies  the  process  with  the  adjective  "  cre- 
ative "  to  show  that 

"  the  effect  is  not,  as  in  the  case  of  a  resultant  movement,  of 
the  same  kind  and  value  as  its  components,  but  that  it  is  a 
specifically  new  event,  made  ready  but  not  ready  made,  by  its 
elements  (vorhereitetes  aher  nicht  vorgehildetes)  and  that  its 
characteristic  value  marks  a  newer  and  a  higher  stage  than 
theirs." 

For  instance, 

"  A  sound  is  more  than  the  sum  of  the  tones  that  compose  it. 
While  these  are  melted  into  a  unity,  the  ground-tone  gains  a 
colour  of  its  own  through  the  overtones  which,  because  of  their 
lesser  intensity,  have  become  powerless  as  independent  elements ; 
these  make  it  a  very  much  richer  sound  than  it  could  be  as  a 
simple  tone. 

"  Likewise  every  spatial  perception  is  a  product,  or  result,  in 
which,  again,  certain  elements  have  lost  their  independence,  and 
impart  to  the  result  a  completely  new  property  —  the  spatial 
order  of  sensations." 

Again : 

"In  processes  of  willing  the  multiplicity  of  motives  finally 
gives  rise  to  more  and  more  complex  forms  of  willing,  which 
again,  as  original  psychic  products,  are  differentiated  from  the 
single  elements  of  motive  which  compose  them." 

But,  lest  we  should  build  too  much  on  this  creative  prin- 
ciple, we  are  warned  unmistakably  that  it  refers 

"  only  to  syntheses  and  relations  of  such  psychic  contents  as 


SOME  QUESTIONS  OF  PSYCHOLOGY      87 

hold  together  immediately,  and  never  to  such  as  are  completely 
separated;  even  when  these  belong  to  a  single  individual  con- 
sciousness. In  short,  it  is  a  principle  that  applies  only  to  par- 
ticular psychic  events;  not  a  law  that  rules  in  spiritual  evolu- 
tion generally."  Physiologische-Psychologie,  Vol.  Ill,  Chap. 
XXII.) 

And  we  can  no  more  draw  conclusions  from  it  as  to  the 
future  of  existing  spiritual  values  (or  of  spiritual  beings) 
than  we  can  argue  as  to  the  future  of  the  physical  world 
from  the  law  of  conservation  of  energy. 

Meanwhile,  the  back  of  materialism  is  broken.  In 
psychic  processes  we  have  got  another  principle  of  causality 
altogether.  We  have  something  so  new,  so  different,  that 
it  cannot  possibly  be  accounted  for  by  any  mechanical  or 
material  process. 

So  far  so  good.  But  can  strict  Parallelism  be  kept  up  ? 
Surely  Parallelism  implies  correspondence  of  the  events  on 
one  line  with  events  on  the  other.  And  on  a  system  of 
strict  correspondence  we  should  expect  to  find  that  all 
events  on  one  line  were  represented  somewhere  on  the  other, 
or  at  least  that  all  ascertainable  sequences  could  be  shown 
to  correspond  point  for  point ;  even  when  physical  gi'oup- 
ings  do  not  correspond  with  psychic  groupings,  and  vice 
versa.  But  it  is  difficult  to  see,  on  the  one  hand,  how 
several  million  vibrations,  whose  psychic  correlate  is  a 
sensation  of  colour,  are  represented  in  the  psychic  event, 
or,  on  the  other  hand,  how  any  conceivable  gTOuping  of 
nerve  and  brain  cells  could  represent  or  correspond  with 
the  perception  of  objects  in  the  field  of  vision. 

Even  if  different  qualities  of  sensations  of  the  same 
class  are  represented  by  differences  in  the  rate  of  vibra- 
tions, it  is  still  difficult  to  see  how  differences  between 
classes  —  the  difference,  for  instance,  between  sight  and 
hearing  —  are  represented  by  any  conceivable  differences 
in  the  construction,  or  disposition,  or  chemical  quality  of 
molecules  in  the  visual  and  auditory  nerves. 


88  A  DEFENCE  OF  IDEALISM 

So  that,  from  the  first  moment  of  rudimentary  conscioua- 
ness,  Parallelism  breaks  down.  And  when  the  psychic  plot 
broadens  and  deepens,  and  its  "  thickness  "  becomes  appar- 
ent, the  system  definitely  leaves  the  rails.  If  it  cannot 
stand  the  strain  of  such  a  simple  psychic  process  as  ele- 
mentary sensation,  how  is  it  going  to  stand  the  strain  of 
any  psychic  processes  less  simple  than  those  which  are 
supposed  to  be  accounted  for  on  the  "  association " 
theory  ?  ^^  True,  if  memory  and  the  association  of  ideas 
are  no  more  than  the  psychic  response  to  repeated  stimulus 
of  the  same  associated  nerve  and  brain  cells,  the  faithful 
correlate  of  a  purely  physical  association,  fixed  by  re- 
peated treading  of  the  same  nervous  track,  then  physical 
habit  and  psychic  habit  will  run  perfectly  parallel.  The 
parallelist's  task  is  even  simpler  than  the  associationist's, 
since  he  has  not  got  to  account  for  the  psychic  process 
causally  at  all. 

We  shall  see  how  it  is  this  too  great  simplicity  of  his 
that  wrecks  him. 

Here  the  crucial  question  raised  by  Mr.  McDougall  turns 
on  meaning. 

"  The  parallelist  has  to  believe  that  purely  mechanical  deter- 
mination runs  parallel  with  logical  process  and  issues  in  the 
same  results.  He  has  to  believe  or  at  any  rate  assert,  that  every 
form  of  human  activity  and  every  product  of  human  activity  is 
capable  of  being  mechanically  explained.  Consider  then,  a  page 
of  print,  the  letters  and  words  of  a  logical  argument  are  im- 
pressed upon  the  page  by  a  purely  mechanical  process.  But 
what  has  determined  their  order  ?  Their  order  is  such  that  when 
an  adequately  educated  person  reads  the  lines,  he  takes  the 
meaning  of  the  words  or  sentences,  follows  the  reasoning  and 
is  led  to,  and  forced  to  accept,  the  logical  conclusion." 

As  for  the  author,  for  him  the  meaning  and  the  logical 
drift  of  his  words  and  sentences  was  present  in  his  con- 
sciousness before  and  during  and  after  the  process  of  writ- 
ing; his  foreseen  and  foregoing  purpose  was  to  demon- 
strate his  meaning ; 


SOME  QUESTIONS  OF  PSYCHOLOGY       89 

"  his  choice  of  words  and  order  was  determined  by  this  purpose, 
by  the  desire  to  achieve  an  end,  a  result,  which  existed  only  in 
his  consciousness.  Now  the  parallelist  necessarily  maintains 
that  all  this  process  ...  is  in  principle  capable  of  being  fully 
explained  as  the  outcome  of  the  mechanical  interplay  of  the 
author's  brain-processes:  that  a  complete  description  of  the 
mechanics  of  these  processes  would  be  a  complete  explanation  of 
the  ordering  of  the  letters,  words  and  sentences."  {Body  and 
Mind,  Pages  174, 175.) 

I  do  not  think  that  it  is  fair  to  the  parallelist  to  fasten 
on  him  a  belief  that  the  mechanical  process,  if  known, 
would  account  for  the  teleological  process ;  for  that  is  pre- 
cisely what  the  strict  Parallelist  denies.  And  Wundt 
would  have  been  the  first  to  insist  on  the  purely  teleological 
character  of  the  process  described. 

Enough,  if  the  Animist  can  show  that  there  is  a  tele- 
ological process  on  the  physical  line,  that  interaction  gives 
a  better  account  of  what  goes  on  on  both  lines,  and  that 
causation  and  teleology,  so  far  from  being  mutually  ex- 
clusive, involve  each  other. 

Mr.  McDougall  then  asks :  "Is  there  or  is  there  not 
any  complete  brain  correlate  of  that  part  of  our  conscious- 
ness which  we  call  meaning  ?  " 

The  same  question  is  crucial  for  memory. 

Memory  as  nerve-habit  association  is  the  great  psychic 
stronghold  of  the  parallelist ;  and  if  it  can  be  shown  that 
meaning  is  a  determinant  of  association  and  of  memory,  the 
stronghold  will  be  very  badly  shaken. 

In  considering  how  associations  are  actually  formed, 
Mr.  McDougall  gives  us  a  very  clear  and  simple  statement 
of  the  case. 

"  Our  consciousness  comprises  again  and  again  complex  con- 
junctions of  sensations  which  show  no  appreciable  tendency  to 
become  associated  together.  It  is  only  when  the  attention  is 
turned  upon  the  objects  that  excite  sensations,  and  when  the 
sensations  enter  into  the  process  of  perception  (sei*ving  as  cues 
that  bring  some  meaning  to  consciousness)  that  associations  are 


90  A  DEFENCE  OF  IDEALISM 

formed.  And  even  then,  the  forming  of  an  effective  neural  as- 
sociation is  by  no  means  an  immediate  and  invariable  re- 
sult. .  .  ." 

He  illustrates  this  point  by  his  own  experience  in  teach- 
ing his  son,  a  clever  and  observant  child  of  six.  The  boy 
had  no  difficulty  in  learning  the  alphabet  and  recognizing 
the  forms  of  the  letters.  But,  when  it  came  to  naming 
each  letter  separately,  many  hundreds  of  repetitions  were 
required  to  fix  the  mechanical  association  between  the 
form  of  the  letter  and  its  name.  In  learning  to  name  num- 
bers from  one  to  ten 

"  an  even  larger  number  of  repetitions  of  the  naming  were  re- 
quired to  establish  really  effective  associations. 

"  This  experience  brought  home  to  me  very  vividly  the  great 
difference  between  memory  and  mechanical  association.  For 
the  boy,  who  required  so  many  hundred  repetitions  for  the  es- 
tablishment of  these  simple  mechanical  associations,  would 
often  surprise  me  by  referring  to  scenes  and  events  observed  by 
him  months  or  even  years  previously,  sometimes  describing  them 
in  a  way  that  seemed  to  imply  vivid  and  faithful  representation. 
Yet  the  memory  pictures  of  such  scenes  involved  far  more  com- 
plex conjunctions  of  partial  impressions  than  did  the  remem- 
bering the  name  of  a  printed  letter  or  number. 

"  The  essential  difference  between  the  rememberings  of  these 
two  kinds  was  that  in  the  one  case  meaning  was  at  a  minimum, 
and  remembering  depended  almost  wholly  upon  mechanical  or 
neural  association  of  the  nature  of  a  habit;  whereas  the  com- 
plex scenes  and  events  remembered  (in  some  instances  after  a 
single  perception  only)  were  full  of  meaning." 

How  crucial  this  factor  of  meaning  is  will  be  realized 
when  we  consider  the  established  psychological  fact  that 

"  an  impression  which  is  already  associated  with  others  acquires 
new  associations  with  more  difficulty  than  one  which  is  free  from 
previously  formed  associations,  and  that  the  difficulty  is  greater 
the  greater  the  number  of  the  previously  formed  associations." 

Hence,  on  the  theory  of  mechanical  association, 
"  the  richer  the  meaning  the  greater  should  be  the  difficulty  of 


SOME  QUESTIOISTS  OF  PSYCHOLOGY      91 

combining  any  complex  of  sense  impressions  and  of  reproducing 
them  as  one  memory  picture;  it  is  therefore  impossible  to  ac- 
count in  this  way  for  the  fact  that  impressions  which  convey 
much  meaning  are  combined  and  remembered  with  so  much  less 
diiEculty  than  those  of  little  meaning."  {Body  and  Mind, 
Pages  340,  341.) 

Mr.  McDougall  might  have  added  that  mechanical  as- 
sociations have  the  longer  ancestral  history ;  they  have  been 
practised  longer;  so  that  we  should  expect  their  physical 
machinery  to  v^ork  vs^ith  such  an  ease  and  readiness  as  to 
render  them  pre-potent  in  determining  remembrance. 
What  actually  happens  is  clean  contrary  to  this  —  the 
higher,  and  biologically  more  recent,  power  of  appreciation 
of  meaning  rules  the  event. 

It  must  not  be  supposed  that  Mr.  McDougall  by  any 
means  underrates  the  other  side  of  the  question. 

"  Neural  associations  or  habits  may  so  link  groups  of  sensory 
elements  of  the  brain  as  to  lead  to  successive  revival  of  the 
corresponding  sensory  complexes  ...  in  so  far  as  each  sensory 
complex  has  evoked  meaning  in  the  past,  it  tends  to  revive  it 
upon  its  reproduction  and  reinstate  the  idea  in  consciousness. 
This  is  the  process  of  the  evocation  of  an  idea  from  the  neural 
side.  It  plays  only  a  subordinate  part  in  the  higher  processes 
of  remembering." 

For  the  idea  is  more  than  its  sensory  content;  it  is  a 
"  compound  of  sensory  content  and  meaning."  And  mean- 
ing, as  we  have  seen,  has  escaped  the  net  of  neural  associa- 
tion. Yet  the  pre-potency  of  meaning  argues  its  persist- 
ency. 

But  —  how  or  where  do  meanings  persist  ? 

"  Clearly,"  Mr.  McDougall  says,  "  they  do  not  persist  as  facts 
of  consciousness.  But  the  development  of  the  mind,  from  in- 
fancy onwards,  consists  largely  in  the  development  of  capacities 
for  ideas  and  thoughts  of  richer,  fuller,  more  abstract  and  more 
general  meanings.  If  then  meanings  have  no  immediate  physi- 
cal correlates  or  counterparts  in  the  brain,  and  if  the  meanings 
themselves  do  not  persist,  we  must  suppose  that  the  persistent 


92  A  DEFENCE  OF  IDEALISM 

conditions  of  meanings  are  psychic  dispositions."     (Body  and 
Mind,  Page  343.) 

If  anybody  has  a  lingering  doubt  as  to  the  possibility  of 
what  is  called  the  "  psychic  increment  " —  of  psychical  dis- 
positions and  of  psycho-physical  interactions  —  let  him  ask 
himself  what  would  happen  if  the  automaton  theory  of 
association  really  held  good.  The  question  is  crucial; 
for,  while  all  the  higher  mental  processes  are  based  on  as- 
sociation, it  is  still  possible  to  acknowledge  the  "  creative  " 
value  (in  Wundt's  sense)  of  a  logical  synthesis,  and  to 
deny  strenuously  that  the  psyche  has  a  hand  in  the  associa- 
tions themselves. 

Let  us  suppose,  then,  that  it  has  no  hand ;  that  it  must 
always  take  what  associations  are  given  to  it,  without  any 
means  of  selection  and  rejection  other  than  the  automatic 
stamping  out  of  weaker  and  less  frequent  associations  by 
stronger  and  more  frequent  ones;  and  that  these  associa- 
tions are  formed  strictly  by  neural  habits.  We  are  told 
that,  when  two  or  more  impressions  are  received  together, 
either  often  enough  or  with  sufficient  intensity,  a  neural 
track  from  one  to  the  other  is  set  up  within  the  brain  cell 
where  both  have  met,  a  track  which  henceforth  becomes  a 
line  of  least  resistance ;  so  that,  either  on  the  actual  repeti- 
tion of  the  one  impression,  or  its  revival  in  memory,  the 
other  —  through  the  revived  stimulation  of  the  brain  cell 
—  spontaneously  and  inevitably  leaps  forth.  Suppose  that 
this  is  all  there  is  in  it ;  suppose  that  we  remember,  never 
because  we  choose,  but  always  because  Ave  must ;  and  that 
our  memories  are  at  the  mercy  of  all  sorts  of  random  as- 
sociations, being  nothing  but  the  revived  stimulation  of  the 
brain  cells  where  neural  paths  having  once  met,  meet  for 
ever;  suppose  that  there  are  no  psychic  dispositions,  no 
psychic  interferences,  no  psychic  preferences,  and  no  selec- 
tions and  rejections  of  associations,  then  our  consciousness 
would  be  like  nothing  on  earth  but  an  immense  fantastic 


SOME  QUESTIONS  OF  PSYCHOLOGY       93 

telephone  exchange;  an  exchange  where  messages,  indeed 
received  and  registered  and  answered  themselves,  but  all 
at  once,  and  in  overwhelming  multitudes;  an  exchange 
deafened  and  disorganized;  bells  ringing  incessantly  all 
through  its  working  hours;  messages  rushing  in  from  all 
parts  of  the  city  and  suburbs  at  once,  crossed  and  recrossed 
hj  trunk  calls  from  all  parts  of  the  outlying  country; 
casually  crossing  and  recrossing,  interrupting  and  utterly 
obliterating  each  other. 

On  these  lines,  neither  logical  departments  nor  central 
control  could  possibly  exist.  Yet  without  some  one  central 
sorting  and  supervising  system,  a  system  which  refused 
more  calls  than  it  received,  mere  automatic  association 
would  have  no  more  method  about  it  than  that  mad  tele- 
phone exchange. 

What  is  the  more  likely,  not  to  say  more  conceivable, 
theory:  that  the  brain,  which  is  itself  the  exchange,  the 
distracted  hall  where  the  infinite  number  of  wires  meet  and 
mingle,  without  aid  selects  and  rejects,  orders,  gives  mean- 
ing, supervises,  and  controls  ?  Or  that  the  psyche  uses 
the  brain,  and  the  memories  which  have  become  the  habits 
of  its  body  and  its  brain,  as  its  machine,  and  its  vehicle; 
and  that  the  secret  of  its  remembering  and  forgetting  is  its 
own? 

But  if  "  psychical  disposition  "  determines  the  higher 
forms  of  memory,  what,  then,  determines  "  psychical  dis- 
position "  ? 

As  Mr.  McDougall  does  not  raise  this  question,  we  may 
take  it  that  he  considers  "  the  soul  itself  "  to  be  sufficient 
answer. 

But,  as  you  cannot  cut  the  individual  soul  clean  off  from 
its  own  history,  from  its  long  past  existences,  it  is  just 
possible  that  preacquired  experience  may  have  determined 
its  individual  "  disposition,"  in  the  absence  of  any  perma- 
nent factor  persisting  in  and  partly  determining  those  ex- 
periences themselves. 


94  A  DEFENCE  OF  IDEALISM 

If  there  be  such  a  permanent  factor  persisting  through 
past  experiences,  and  in  part  determining  them,  it  is  the 
Will;  and  the  Will  itself  will  be  in  part  determined  by 
past  experience;  so  much  enterprise  in  seeking  new  expe- 
rience, so  much  adaption  to  each  experience  found. 
Go  back  to  the  earliest  experiences  of  all ;  say  that  the  first 
bit  of  protoplasm  is  formed  in  fulfilment  of  some  need, 
that  the  amoeba  "  improvises  a  stomach  because  it  wants 
to,"  and  that  our  protoplasmic  forefather  did  the  same 
thing  for  the  same  sufficient  reason ;  he  may  be  supposed 
to  have  taken  the  next  step,  and  the  next  step  after  that, 
also  for  the  same  reason,  his  want  or  will  determining  his 
development  and  slowly  but  surely  shaping  his  memory, 
his  associations,  and  his  meanings  (when  he  has  any),  till 
in  the  long  run  (his  intelligence  immensely  helping)  it  has 
shaped  the  psychical  disposition  he  is  born  with.  If  at 
the  top  of  the  scale  to-day,  Mr.  McDougall's  son's  memory 
is  determined  by  meaning,  is  not  that  because  of  his  psychic 
predilection  or  choice  of  meanings  ? 

Is  it  rash  to  suppose  that  some  such  cumulative  effect 
of  will  comes  under  the  head  of  that  "  psychic  increment  " 
of  energy,  which,  as  Mr,  McDougall  suggests,  may  in  all 
probability  influence  the  behaviour  of  organisms  ?  (He  is 
trying  to  show  that  the  law  of  conservation  of  energy  is  not 
in  itself  fatal  to  the  hypothesis  of  the  psychic  increment. ) 

".  .  .  all  living  organisms  show  certain  peculiarities  of  be- 
haviour that  are  not  established  by  any  inorganic  aggregations 
of  matter.  The  peculiarities  of  behaviour  of  living  organisms, 
especially  the  power  of  resisting  the  tendency  to  degradation  of 
energy  which  seems  to  prevail  throughout  the  inorganic  realm, 
are  correlated  with,  that  is  to  say,  they  constantly  go  together 
with,  the  presence  of  psycho-physical  processes  in  them,  and  this 
fact  of  correlation  implies  causal  relation  between  the  two 
things.  .  .  .  The  few  experiments  which  go  to  show  that  the 
energy  given  out  by  an  organism  is  equal  in  amount  to  the 
energy  taken  in,  are  far  too  few  and  too  rough  to  rule  out  the 
possibility  that  psychical  effort  may  involve  increment  of  energy 


SOME  QUESTIONS  OF  PSYCHOLOGY      95 

to  the  organism;  for  increments  far  too  small  to  be  detected 
might  effect  very  important  changes  in  the  course  of  the  organic 
processes." 

If  this  hypothesis  remains  unjustified  we  have  the  alter- 
native possibility  "  that  mind  may  exert  guidance  upon  the 
brain-processes  without  altering  the  quantity  of  energy." 
In  either  case,  the  physical  law  of  conservation  is  not  one 
that  can  be  legitimately  applied  to  energies  presumably  of 
a  different  order. 

It  seems  to  me  that  both  alternatives,  that  of  the  psychic 
influx  (or  increment)  of  energy,  and  that  of  the  guiding 
influence  of  mind,  are  a  little  vague ;  besides  being  vulner- 
able to  any  experiment  that  may  yet  establish  the  law  of 
conservation  of  energy  in  living  organisms.  Whereas  we 
do  find  that  every  act  of  will  is  accompanied  by  the  release 
of  energy;  so  much  so  that  desire  seeking  fulfilment  may 
be  said  to  be  psychic  energy  itself.  Anyhow,  whether  as 
release  or  as  influx,  it  is  the  one  psychic  factor  that  appears 
the  fittest  to  play  the  decisive  evolutionary  role.  It  is  the 
one  that  lies  nearest  to  life  itself,  that  has  the  deepest 
ground  in  our  past  and  the  highest  reach  into  our  future. 

We  have  seen  how  the  "  psychic  increment "  may  work 
at  the  human  level  in  the  case  of  Mr.  McDougall's  son. 
Let  us  see  now  what  part  it  plays  at  a  level  slightly  lower 
than  the  human  —  in  the  case  of  Professor  Thomdike's 
Cat. 

Mr.  McDougall  is  considering  the  process  of  acquiring 
"  new  modes  of  bodily  response  to  impressions  "  by  adapta- 
tion and  movement.  {Body  and  Mind,  Page  318.) 
Professor  Thorndike,  testing  animal  intelligence  by  various 
experiments,  hit  upon  the  simple  one  of  shutting  up  a 
hungry  cat  in  a  cage  within  sight  of  a  saucer  of  milk 
placed  outside.  The  door  of  his  cage  was  closed  with  a 
latch  which  it  was  just  possible  for  the  cat  to  open  by  a 
happy  accident  in  his  struggles  to  escape. 


96  A  DEFENCE  OF  IDEALISM 

"  The  cat,  stimulated  by  the  sight  of  food  placed  near  the 
cage,  makes  a  great  variety  of  movements,  clawing,  scratching 
and  squeezing  in  all  parts  of  the  cage;  it  runs  through  its  vo- 
cabulary of  movement  without  the  least  indication  that  it  ap- 
preciates the  presence  of  a  door,  or  of  a  latch  by  moving  which 
the  door  may  be  opened.  Sooner  or  later,  in  the  course  of  these 
random  movements,  the  latch  is  moved  by  happy  accident  and 
the  cat  escapes  to  enjoy  the  food.  Now  it  is  found  that  in 
nearly  all  cases,  if  the  cat  is  put  back  in  the  same  cage  on  many 
successive  occasions,  it  gradually  learns  to  escape  more  and 
more  quickly;  until  eventually  it  goes  straight  to  the  latch  and 
makes  the  necessary  movement."     {Ihid.,  Page  319.) 

iNow  on  any  theory  which  absolutely  excludes  the  psychic 
factors  of  desire  and  choice,  and  denies  that  movement  can 
be  determined  by  anything  but  neural  habit  associations, 
the  cat's  readiness  to  acquire  the  habit  of  the  right  move- 
ment is  inexplicable.  Why  just  that  particular  movement 
of  all  the  movements  he  has  made  and  repeated,  each  repe- 
tition setting  up  a  neural  habit  f  Why  should  the  habit 
of  the  successful  movement  override  the  habits  of  the  un- 
successful movements,  which  have  had  the  advantage  of 
the  start,  if  desire  and  its  fulfilment,  if  success  or  failure 
are  not  to  count  ? 

It  is  not  necessary  to  keep  a  cat  hungry  and  shut  him  up 
in  a  cage  within  sight  of  food  in  order  to  test  the  power 
of  psychic  associations  over  neural  ones.  Everybody  who 
has  lived  with  animals,  and  loved  them  and  gained  their 
love,  must  have  observed  what  I  may  call  the  pre-potency  of 
their  acquired  affections  over  long  established  habit  associa- 
tions. (I  am  not  sure  whether  one  may  speak  of  the  pre- 
potency of  acquired  characteristics!  But  an  illustration 
will  make  my  meaning  clear.)  My  own  cat,  like  other 
cats,  is  obsessed  by  his  motor  habits.  Perhaps  his  most 
persistent  motor  habit  is  his  garden  game  of  running  away 
and  hiding  in  the  bushes  when  I  try  to  catch  him.  In- 
doors, he  is  not  bappy  unless  he  is  sitting  in  my  lap. 
There  he  may  be  easily  caught,  and  will  even  offer  him- 


SOME  QUESTIONS  OF  PSYCHOLOGY       97 

self  to  be  carried  like  an  infant  in  arms.  Out  of  doors 
lie  will  not  come  to  any  call;  he  will  not  be  caught  or 
touched  by  any  hand.  My  approach  is  the  signal  for  his 
flight.  All  through  this  summer,  and  last  spring  and  sum- 
mer and  autumn,  all  through  the  spring  and  summer  and 
autumn  before  that,  he  kept  up  his  garden  game,  with  the 
same  fixed  gestures,  the  same  lovely  ritual  of  play ;  a  ritual 
so  invariable  as  surely  to  have  become  automatic.  This 
autumn  I  went  away  for  seven  weeks.  When  I  came  back 
he  was  not  in  the  house.  I  could  hardly  suppose  that  if 
he  was  in  the  garden  he  would  come  to  me,  since  he  had 
formed  no  habit  of  coming  when  he  was  called.  Still,  I 
called  him ;  and  in  an  instant  he  appeared  on  the  wall  of 
the  next  garden  but  one.  He  stood  there  and  stared  at  me 
till  he  had  put  the  voice  and  the  figure  together.  Then  he 
came  running  fast,  along  the  connecting  wall  into  his  own 
garden,  and  straight  into  my  arms.  The  rush  of  affection 
and  of  reminiscence  had  carried  it  over  all  the  motor  habits 
of  the  garden  game,  and  over  all  his  ancestral  memories 
of  pursuit  and  flight. 

Now  if  Parallelism  cannot  well  account  for  the  be- 
haviour of  Professor  Thorndike's  cat,  still  less  can  it  ac- 
count for  the  behaviour  of  my  cat. 

There  are  yet  other  psychic  factors  besides  desire  and 
its  opposite,  aversion,  which  are  not  represented  on  the 
physical  side.  There  are  pleasure  and  displeasure.  And 
there  is  a  further  problem:  Do  these  psychic  factors,  or 
does  some  neural  process  determine  the  movements  of  or- 
ganisms ?  Grant  that  pleasant  experiences  are  beneficial 
and  unpleasant  experiences  hurtful. 

"If  then"  (I  am  still  quoting  Mr.  McDougall)  "pleasure 
and  displeasure  are  themselves  the  determinants  of  movements 
of  appetition  and  avoidance,  we  can  understand  how  this  gen- 
eral agreement  between  the  beneficial  and  the  pleasurable  and 
between  the  hurtful  and  the  disagreeable  has  been  brought 
about  by  natural  selection.  .  .  ." 


98  A  DEFENCE  OF  IDEALISM 

And  if 

"  we  adopt  the  Parallelist's  assumption  that  two  neural  proc- 
esses, the  physical  correlates  of  pleasure  and  displeasure  (which 
we  may  call  x  and  y)  are  determinants  of  appetition  and 
aversion,  then  the  correlation  throughout  the  animal  world 
of  X  with  the  beneficial  and  of  y  with  the  hurtful,  bodily  affec- 
tions follows  .  .  .  from  the  Darwinian  principle.  But  that  x 
should  express  itself  in  consciousness  as  pleasure  and  y  as  dis- 
pleasure would  remain  an  insoluble  problem." 

Again : 

"  And  if  it  be  asked  —  Are  we  then  to  believe  that  the  feelings 
themselves  act  directly  upon  cerebral  processes  ?  the  answer  must 
be,  I  think.  No;  they  act  only  indirectly,  namely,  by  exciting 
conation  or  psychical  effort,  for  conation  is,  essentially,  the 
putting  forth  of  psychical  power  to  modify  the  course  of  physi- 
cal events." 

Now,  the  parallelist  and  the  materialist  with  him  might 
say:  Why  drag  in  psychical  effort  to  account  for  move- 
ments of  appetition  and  aversion  which  you  have  allowed 
to  be  determined  by  x  and  y  ?  On  the  theory,  psychical 
effort  can  do  no  more  than  show  itself  as  a  movement  of 
appetition  and  aversion  which  has  been  already  accounted 
for.  The  Animist  can  only  "  down  "  him  by  showing  that 
psychic  effort  does  do  more.  It  does  so  much  by  way  of 
modifying  physical  events  that  its  teleological  action  de- 
flects the  teleological  line  from  the  parallel  and  sends  it 
cutting  across  the  causal  line  continually. 

The  parallelist's  diagram  of  the  transaction  should  stand 
thus: 

Physical  and  Causal  Line.  Psychic  and  Teleological  Line. 


Movement  b 

accomplished.  A 


Neural  process. 


Movement  desired  h' 

as  end. 


Sense-impression. 


SOME  QUESTIONS  OF  PSYCHOLOGY      99 

These  are  positively  all  the  factors  that  the  strict  paral- 
lelist  is  justified  in  taking  into  account,  if  his  lines  are  to 
remain  strictly  parallel,  and  if  point  for  point  correspond- 
ence is  to  be  perfect.  The  diagram  is  absurd;  but  it  is 
beautifully  simple,  as  on  any  theory  of  rigid  Parallelism  it 
is  bound  to  be.  You  will  notice  that  interaction  is  in- 
exorably barred.  There  is  no  bridge  to  or  from  the  causal 
physical  process  on  the  one  side  to  the  psychic  teleological 
process  on  the  other. 

You  will  also  notice  that  no  teleological  action  has  taken 
place.  It  need  not  take  place,  because  neural  process  a 
has  led  directly  to  the  accomplishment  of  movement  h. 
And  it  cannot  take  place  because,  clearly,  movement  h  is 
accomplished  on  the  physical  line,  and  there  is  no  means  of 
transferring  it  to  the  psychic  line. 

So  the  parallelist  must  either  give  up  his  teleology,  or, 
agreeing  that  teleological  action  has  taken  place,  he  must 
admit  that  it  has  contributed  to  an  effect  (the  movement) 
accomplished  on  the  physical  line;  in  which  case  he  gives 
up  his  Parallelism,  and  goes  over  to  the  theory  of  inter- 
action. 

I  do  not  want  to  complicate  this  problem  unnecessarily, 
but  if  we  introduce  the  factor  of  time  —  and  we  cannot 
ignore  it  —  some  very  odd  consequences  will  follow. 

For  we  have  not  forgotten  that,  on  the  two  lines  of  phys- 
ical and  teleological  causation,  what  is  last  in  the  physical 
series  as  effect  appears  first  in  the  psychic  series  as  cause. 


Physical  Process 

Instants  of  Time.          Psychic  Process. 

(Action)   d  > 

< 

d" 

Awareness  of  action    d' 

c 

^^^     &' 

Will  to  act                     c' 

h 

^V'^^^ 

Desire  for  action          V 

a 

a"         "^ 

■*  (Action,                      a' 

as  final  cause. 

end  or  purpose.) 

100  A  DEFENCE  OF  IDEALISM 

I  am  not  trying  to  circumvent  Parallelism  by  arguing 
that  an  action  accomplished  is  identical  with  an  action  de- 
signed; and  that,  consequently,  the  same  thing,  besides 
existing  both  as  the  cause  and  the  effect  of  itself,  must 
exist  (as  cause)  at  the  same  instant  of  time  when  (as 
effect)  it  has  not  yet  come  into  existence.  For  there  is  no 
reason  why  the  same  thing  should  not  behave  as  cause  and 
effect  respectively  at  different  instants  of  time;  and  it  is 
quite  impossible  to  establish  point  for  point  correspond- 
ence of  the  series  of  instants  in  time  with  the  series  of 
physical  and  psychic  events,  so  as  to  force  the  conclusion 
that  the  time  of  those  different  behaviours  is  the  same.  I 
suggest  none  of  these  absurdities.  On  the  contrary,  in 
spite  of  that  diagram,  I  would  insist  that  action  physically 
accomplished,  and  action  as  purpose  or  end,  are  two  sepa- 
rate events  —  divided,  it  may  be,  by  a  long  period  of  time 
and  by  many  intervening  processes  —  of  which  one  event, 
invisible,  incalculable,  psychic,  most  truly  determines  the 
other  which  is  visible,  calculable  and  physical ;  inasmuch  as 
the  inner  event  is  the  one  factor  without  which  the  outer 
event  would  not  have  happened.  And  I  would  suggest  that, 
this  being  so,  it  is  not  the  antecedent  neural  process  but  the 
antecedent  psychic  process  that  is  the  prime  causal  factor. 

But  —  to  return  to  the  case  of  Professor  Thorndike's  cat 
—  there  were  other  psychic  factors,  not  represented  on  that 
diagram,  which  cannot  be  ignored. 

What  has  happened  in  the  case  of  Professor  Thorndike's 
cat? 

The  cat  has  received  his  pleasant  sense-impression  of  the 
milk  outside  his  cage.  He  has  hit  on  the  lucky  means  of 
escape,  and  established  a  pleasant  memory  of  the  beneficial 
result.  After  a  few  experiments,  which  he  makes  himself, 
a  connection  (but  what  connection  ?)  is  established  between 
a\  the  sense-impression  of  the  milk,  and  h,  the  movement 
which  unlatches  the  door ;  so  that,  in  future,  sense-impres- 
sion 0.'  is  instantly  followed  by  movement  b. 


SOME  QUESTIONS  OF  PSYCHOLOGY      101 

Now,  besides  these  two  terms,  there  stands  on  the  psychic 
line,  a  third  term,  c\  the  cat's  pleasure  or  satisfaction. 
(His  pleasure  and  his  pleasant  memory  are  really  two 
terms ;  or,  if  we  count  repetitions,  they  are  as  many  as  you 
like ;  but  for  the  purpose  of  the  problem  they  may  be  taken 
as  one).  This  third  term  is  of  supreme  importance  in  de- 
termining h.  It,  not  h  (the  movement  itself),  18  the  real 
final  cause,  the  motive,  purpose  or  end  of  h.  For  the 
pleasure  or  satisfaction  of  drinking  milk  is  that  for  which 
the  cat  makes  his  experiments  and  his  successful  move- 
ment. 

But,  though  the  psychic  event  (f  will  no  doubt  be  repre- 
sented on  the  physical  line  by  some  point  of  neural  change, 
c,  on  the  parallelist  hypothesis  c'  (again)  must  be  a  super- 
fluous and  impertinent  interloper,  since  the  sense-impres- 
sion and  the  memory  of  a.',  the  sight  of  the  saucer  of  milk, 
or  rather,  its  represe7itative  neural  change,  a,  is  sufficient 
to  bring  about  the  movement  h  by  nervous  discharges  along 
a  path  of  least  resistance,  going  direct,  that  is  to  say,  with- 
out psychic  intervention,  from  a  to  h.  (Direct,  because 
the  question  is  not  of  the  neural  reflexes  naturally  involved, 
but  of  psycho-physical  interaction.)  So  direct  is  it  (in 
this  sense)  that,  given  strict  correspondence,  the  process  on 
the  psychic  line  —  each  term  accompanied,  if  you  like,  by 
its  meaningless  note  of  neural  change  —  ought  to  stand 
a' y,  without  any  intermediary  c\  The  cat's  pleas- 
ure (v^hich,  by  the  "way,  has  grown  by  repetition  from  one 
more  or  less  simple  sensation  to  a  perfect  pile  of  memories 
and  anticipations  of  pleasure),  the  Cat's  Pleasure,  so  im- 
mensely important  and  personal  to  him,  counts  for  nothing 
in  the  parallelist's  programme;  though  to  the  cat  and  to 
his  master  it  must  rank  as  the  chief  actor  in  the  psychic 
drama. 

If  it  comes  to  that,  is  it,  can  it  be,  really  the  chief 
actor?  Or  even  the  chief  motive  power?  Behind  the 
cat's  movement  is  his  memory,  and  before  it  his  anticipa- 


102  A  DEFENCE  OF  IDEALISM 

tion  of  pleasure;  so  that,  even  if  we  count  the  sensation 
and  the  memory  and  the  anticipation  as  one  determinant, 
the  psychic  plot  thickens  before  our  eyes.  And  if  we  are 
really  to  do  justice  to  the  whole  action,  we  must  assume  a 
fourth  factor,  <i',  the  Cat's  Desire. 

Eliminate  his  desire,  and  his  whole  behaviour  becomes 
meaningless.  His  pleasure  is  meaningless ;  his  move- 
ment is  meaningless ;  he  might  just  as  well  keep  quiet  in 
his  cage.  True,  he  would  not  desire  the  milk  if  he  had  no 
pleasure  in  it.  It  is  equally  true,  however,  that  he  would 
have  no  pleasure  in  it  if  he  did  not  desire  it.  And  the  pe- 
culiarity of  this  factor  of  desire  is  this:  that  it  does  not 
enter  the  series  as  a  single  member  of  the  series  {a\  h\ 
c%  d'),  but  is  present  to  each  member  of  the  series,  (a'J', 
h'd',  c'd'^,  and  to  the  whole,  in  a  way  in  which  they  are  not 
present  to  each  other. 

For  instance,  he  desires  his  pleasure ;  and  he  desires  the 
movement  which  is  his  means  to  his  pleasure;  but  he  has 
no  pleasure  in  the  movement  itself.  His  desire  saturates 
his  sense-impression,  aJ ,  of  the  saucer  of  milk,  and  his 
pleasure  c\  and  his  memory  and  anticipation  of  pleasure, 
and  it  is  surely  the  true  causal  determinant  of  his  move- 
ment &.  And  if  you  say  (the  parallelist  is  bound  to  say 
it,  since  he  is  committed  to  the  teleological  view  of  the 
series  o! ,  h' ,  c^,),  if  you  say  and  insist  that  his  desire  d% 
is  determined  by  his  pleasure  c',  which  thus  appears  as 
the  final  cause  of  the  movement  h,  still,  you  cannot  elimi- 
nate the  factor  of  desire  without  doing  violence  to  the 
whole  series  with  which  it  is  so  intimately  platted  up.  I 
think,  therefore,  you  are  driven  to  acknowledge  it,  not  as 
the  final  cause  —  for  pleasure  fills  up  that  role  quite  ade- 
quately —  and  not  as  the  immediate  working  cause  —  for 
that  is  a  complicated  affair  of  nervous  discharges  and 
muscular  tissues  —  but  as  the  determinant  of  (or  ruling 
causal  factor  in)  the  movement  b. 


SOME  QUESTION'S  OF  PSYCHOLOGY     103 

Then  you  have  got  as  clear  a  case  of  that  trespass  which 
is  interaction  as  the  Animist  could  well  desire. 

And  the  Parallelist's  dilemma  stands  thus:     If  he  was 

justified  in  regarding  the  series,  a h  which  stands  for 

the  neural  lines  of  least  resistance  representing  habit  associ- 
ation and  habit  memory,  if  he  is  justified  in  regarding  this 
series  as  sufficiently  determining  b,  he  is  obliged  to  ignore 
the  obviously  existing  psychic  factors  of  pleasure  and  de- 
sire, determinants  of  series  a' b\     But  as,  in  any  case, 

on  his  own  showing,  it  must  have  been  sense-impression  d' 
that  started  the  whole  business,  some  form  of  causation 
other  than  the  teleological  has  surreptitiously  crept  in  on 
the  psychic  line,  contrary  to  the  sacred  law  laid  down  by 
himself  in  the  beginning.  For,  clearly,  without  the  psychic 
intervention  of  the  original  sense-impression,  a%  the  pre- 
cise and  particular  fact  we  are  considering,  though  pos- 
sible, would  not  have  been  actually  accomplished. 

So  that,  in  the  most  elementary  process  of  psycho- 
physical life,  his  rule  which  forbids  interaction  has  been 
broken. 

If,  on  the  other  hand,  he  acknowledges  —  as  he  is  bound 
to  do  —  the  existence  of  the  psychic  factors,  pleasure  and 
desire,  he  will  find  one  of  them,  desire,  breaking  loose 
obstreperously  from  the  teleological  line  and  invading 
(again !)  the  causal  side  as  determinant  of  the  movement  b. 

In  this  case  he  has,  to  add  to  his  embarrassment,  a  whole 

psychic  series  within  a' V,  in  which  c'  and  d^  stand 

as  the  chief  factors,  a  whole  psychic  series  for  which  it 
would  be  hard  to  find  point  for  point  correspondence  on  the 
physical  line. 

Parallelism  therefore  breaks  down  badly  in  three  places : 
its  law  which  demands  correspondence  breaks  down;  and 
its  law  which  forbids  cross-correspondence  breaks  down; 
and  its  law  which  distinguishes  between  causal  and  tele- 
ological lines  breaks  do^vn ;  and  a  better  diagram  of  the 
real  situation  would  stand  thus : 


104 


A  DEFENCE  OF  IDEALISM 

physical  Rne  Psychic  line 


You  have  there  a  vision  of  the  entire  collapse,  of  the 
most  obvious  crumpling  and  buckling  and  cross-cutting  of 
the  lines;  while  the  Animist  has  established  a  sort  of  as- 
cending spiral  as  his  image.  (I  must  not  father  this  image 
on  Mr.  McDougall ;  but  I  think  it  is  justified  by  the  en- 
semble of  the  process. ) 

And  yet  we  have  not  got  farther  than  the  simple  psy- 
chology of  Professor  Thorndike's  Cat. 

Imagine  then  what  a  diagram  would  look  like  that  at- 
tempted to  represent  the  higher  psychic  processes  of  man, 
the  complex  play  of  many  motives,  determining  one  of 
many  actions  seen  to  be  possible  and  desirable;  the  con- 
flict between  desire  and  will ;  the  element  of  choice  —  the 
will  darting  like  a  shuttle  to  and  fro  among  all  those  in- 
finite threads  and  weaving  them  to  its  own  pattern.  Add 
to  this  the  emotions  saturating  the  web  with  their  own 
colours;  and  consider  that  you  have  not  yet  allowed  for 
the  intellectual  fabric,  different  and  distinct  from  this 
play  of  action  and  emotion  and  desire,  yet  hardly  distin- 
guishable, so  close  is  the  psychic  web,  so  intricate  the 
pattern. 

When  you  come  to  the  work  of  the  adult  human  intelli- 
gence (we  do  not  yet  know  enough  about  animal  intelli- 
gence to  say  with  any  certainty  what  goes  on  there),  to 


SOME  QUESTIONS  OF  PSYCHOLOGY      105 

even  sucli  an  apparently  simple  operation  as  the  perception 
of  an  object  in  space,  and  of  its  relation  to  other  objects 
in  space,  it  is  even  more  obvious  that  you  are  no  longer 
dealing  with  a  series  alone  but  with  a  synthesis.  Add  to 
this  —  what  is  inseparable  from  it  —  the  perception  of 
change,  of  the  succession  of  events  in  time,  and  your  syn- 
thesis will  be  a  synthesis  of  successions  and  juxtapositions, 
or  contemporaneous  existences,  in  which  events  will  be  per- 
ceived as  moving  one  after  another  and  altogether,  against 
a  complex  background  of  objects  immobile  in  space.  Add 
to  this  the  mere  perception  of  their  innumerable  relations, 
and  to  this  the  higher  operations  of  the  intellect,  the  in- 
numerable concepts  involved  in  the  most  elementary  proc- 
ess of  acquiring  knowledge,  and  you  get  a  series  of  syn- 
theses and  the  synthesis  of  this  series.  Add  the  opera- 
tions of  judgment  and  of  reasoning,  inseparably  bound  up 
with  this  process ;  then  abstract  these  operations  from  the 
process  and  examine  them ;  you  will  find,  not  only  that  they 
follow  a  certain  fixed  order  of  their  own  (the  laws  of  in- 
ductive and  deductive  logic),  but  that  yet  another  opera- 
tion has  crept  in  —  analysis,  and  that  these  syntheses,  so 
laboriously  built  up  in  consciousness,  are  in  consciousness 
dissolved  and  broken  up,  in  order  that  new  syntheses,  new 
combinations,  associations  and  arrangements  may  be 
formed. 

This  is  Wundt's  principle  of  the  "  creative  resultants  " 
with  a  vengeance. 

As  Mr.  McDougall  points  out,  with  that  one  rash  word 
"  creative  "  Wundt  gives  the  whole  show  of  psycho-physical 
Parallelism  away.  And  I  do  not  think  it  is  unfair  to 
hold  him  to  it.  There  is  no  wriggling  out  of  the  awkward 
position  it  has  created  for  him.  And  if  we  are  offered 
our  choice  between  Parallelism  and  Interaction  I  can  see 
no  grounds  for  hesitation. 

Parallelism  is  a  sort  of  psychological  book-keeping  by 
double  entry,  under  such  conditions  that  the  values,  on 


106  A  DEFENCE  OF  IDEALISM 

whose  constancy  the  integrity  of  the  result  depends,  change, 
not  only  between  the  dates  of  invoice  and  account,  but  with 
every  separate  item  in  the  ledger.  So  that  the  parallelist's 
books  never  really  balance.  Whereas  the  Interact! onist 
allows  for  every  fluctuation  in  the  values,  while  equally 
pledged  to  the  austerity  and  sanctity  of  book-keeping. 

ISTow  I  think  the  fact  of  psycho-physical  interaction  is 
fairly  demonstrated.  But  so  far  from  giving  us  the  meta- 
physical security  we  are  seeking,  it  leaves  that  side  of  the 
problem  as  much  as  ever  in  the  dark.  Psychology  suggests 
the  ultimate  questions  it  cannot  answer. 

We  cannot  strike  a  balance  of  interactions  and  say 
whether  physical  or  psychic  action  tips  the  scale.  We  do 
not  know  how  far  psychic  action  can  modify  the  order  of 
physical  events.  There  are  certain  long-established,  not 
to  say  invariable  sequences,  such  as  the  course  of  the  stars 
and  the  formation  of  water  from  the  union  of  H2O  with 
which  we  are  pretty  sure  it  cannot  interfere.  You  can 
persuade  a  plant  or  an  animal  to  breed  and  grow  the  way 
you  want  it  —  within  certain  strictly  defined  and  very  im- 
portant limits.  But  you  cannot  force  a  single  particle  of 
inorganic  matter  to  behave  contrary  to  its  pre-established 
habit.  Still  there  are  certain  physical  alterations  that  you 
can  effect.  You  can  dam  back  the  tides  and  divert  the 
course  of  rivers.  You  can  change  the  outward  appearance 
of  the  habitable  globe  by  merely  displacing  things  on  its 
surface.  You  can  turn  steam  into  a  cylinder  so  as  to  drive 
an  engine.  You  can  so  regulate  a  current  of  electricity  or 
an  explosion  of  petrol  as  to  make  them  do  the  same  thing. 
So  that,  if  a  diagram  could  be  drawn  showing  the  physical 
results  of  the  psychic  processes  of  a  few  enterprising  indi- 
viduals it  might  not  equal  our  imaginary  psychic  diagram 
in  complexity,  but  it  would  be  a  very  imposing  and  intri- 
cate affair. 

Shut  up  a  puppy  by  himself  in  your  study  when  he  is 


SOME  QUESTIONS  OF  PSYCHOLOGY     107 

teething,  or  let  loose  a  speculative  builder  over  a  square 
mile  of  virgin  wood  and  field  ;  and  obsen^e  the  change  their 
psychic  processes  will  effect  in  the  order  and  integrity  of 
material  objects.  In  twenty  minutes  the  puppy  has 
gnawed  the  backs  off  your  books  and  worried  the  hearthrug 
to  shreds,  stained  the  carpet  by  upsetting  the  ink  over  it, 
and,  having  eaten  the  best  part  of  your  manuscript,  he  is 
about  to  change  its  chemical  composition  when  you  find 
him  at  his  work.  In  a  year's  time  the  builder  has  caused 
the  virgin  wood  to  disappear  and  •  has  covered  the  fields 
with  streets  of  houses  which  show  in  outward  forms  of 
conglomerated  bricks  and  mortar  the  inner  hideousness 
of  his  soul. 

True,  the  puppy  and  the  builder  have  been  obliged  to  use 
physical  machinery  to  achieve  these  physical  results,  pit- 
ting one  set  of  physical  forces  and  one  arrangement  of 
molecules  against  another.  Still,  all  this  continuous  con- 
struction and  destruction  has  involved  continuous  psychic 
effort;  so  that  all  along  the  series  there  will  be  innumer- 
able points  where  the  physical  processes  are  no  longer  trace- 
able, and  the  psychic  processes  come  into  play. 

But  when  we  try  to  estimate  the  proportion  of  psychic 
effort  to  physical  result  we  find  we  are  dealing  with  incom- 
mensurables."^  So  many  bricks  laid,  so  many  psychic 
processes  involved  in  the  laying  of  each.  We  can  count 
the  bricks ;  but  we  cannot  count  the  psychic  processes ; 
neither  can  we  gauge  the  intensity  of  the  psychic  state  at 
each  moment  of  the  process. 

And  so  far  we  have  only  been  dealing  with  one  side  of 
the  total  operation,  with  extension,  and  the  displacement 
and  rearrangement  of  objects  in  space.  When  we  come  to 
time,  all  possible  correspondence  ceases.  You  can  measure 
the  time  taken  to  lay  each  brick,  and  calculate  from  it  the 
number  of  months  it  will  take  to  complete  the  entire 
scheme  of  the  Estate ;  but  you  cannot  measure  the  time  of 
the  psychic  processes,  for  the  simple  reason  that  those  proc- 


108  A  DEFENCE  OF  IDEALISM 

esses  are  more  than  processes,  they  are  syntheses.  And 
with  them  we  are  brought  back  once  more  to  the  unity  of 
consciousness. 

And  we  are  once  more  driven  to  ask : 

1.  Is  there  any  unity  outside  our  consciousness  that  cor- 

responds with  this  unity  within  it  ? 

2.  If  so,  is  that  unity  also  a  unity  of  consciousness  ?     Or 

rather:  Is  there  anything  in  that  unity  from 
which  we  may  infer  that  where  it  is  there  is  con- 
sciousness ? 

3.  Is  there  anything  in  both  unities  from  which  we  may 

infer  an  ultimate  unity  ? 
Once  more,  the  long  round  that  we  have  fetched  by  way 
of  biology  and  psychology  has  landed  us  in  ultimate  ques- 
tions of  metaphysics. 


IV 

SOME  ULTIMATE  QUESTIONS  OF 
METAPHYSICS 

It  will  be  remembered  that  we  adopted  Mr.  McDougalFs 
classification  of  metaphysical  systems  provisionally,  and 
with  considerable  reservations,  in  order  that  he  might  do 
his  own  deadly  work  among  them  unhindered.  We  have 
seen  him  do  it.  We  have  seen  how  far  he  has  justified  the 
hypothesis  of  a  self  or  soul  as  the  unique  ground  of  the 
unity  of  consciousness.  And  we  must  admit  that  he  has 
certainly  delivered  it  from,  the  worst  assaults  of  the  physio- 
logical psychologists. 

He  has  done  this,  apparently,  by  demonstrating  the 
principle  of  psycho-physical  interaction. 

But  this  is  by  no  means  the  end  of  the  matter.  I  think 
we  may  ask  him  at  least  four  questions. 

1.  How,  without  recourse  to  some  metaphysical  prin- 

ciple,  does  he  propose  to  maintain  the  unity  of 
consciousness  throughout  the  interactions  ? 

2.  How  would  he  explain  the  soul's  action  in  the  con- 

struction of  time  and  space  ? 

3.  What  holds  body  and  soul  together  ? 

4r.  What  holds  the  multiplicity  of  souls  together  ? 

Surely  (1),  unless  body  and  soul  are  one,  or  aspects  of 
an  underlying  Eeality  which  is  one,  each  interruption  of 
either  into  the  other's  territory  must  be  a  break,  however 
slight,  of  their  respective  unities.  And  this,  whether  the 
law  does  or  does  not  hold  good  eternally,  that  the  cause  must 
pass  over  into  its  effect.  Interaction  is  interaction.  Now, 
whatever  the  unity  of  matter  may  be,  unity  of  conscious- 

109 


110  A  DEFENCE  OF  IDEALISM 

ness  is  the  unique  arm  of  the  Animist.  Take  it  from  him 
and  he  is  powerless. 

Mr.  McDougall  is  aware  of  his  danger,  and  he  tries  to 
reduce  the  soul's  action  to  something  less  than  cause  and 
more  than  correspondence.  But  the  danger  is  only  masked 
and  not  removed.  Once  admit  interaction,  with  its  result- 
ing changes,  and  not  only  is  the  powerful  charm  of  Paral- 
lelism broken,  but  the  Animist  himself  is  committed  to 
the  whole  causal  relation. 

That  relation  is  not  like  an  unhappy  love-affair  with  the 
"  reciprocity  all  on  one  side."  It  is  not  the  simple  affair 
of  body  as  cause,  telescoping  into  soul,  and  soul,  as  cause, 
telescoping  back  into  body;  but  each  contributes  to  the 
effect.  This  double  relation  of  cause  and  effect  alters  the 
ensemble  so  profoundly  that  to  talk  any  more  of  dualism  is 
absurd. 

Even  granted  (2)  that  each  interaction  is  simul- 
taneous and  not  successive,  the  whole  series  of  interactions 
constitutes  a  process,  a  series  in  time.  If  you  presuppose 
a  "  real  "  time,  you  are  promptly  landed  in  all  the  dilemmas 
which  M.  Bergson,  for  one,  has  shown  to  be  inherent  in 
that  idea.^**  If  the  soul  supplies,  as  it  were,  its  own  time, 
then  you  have  a  psychic  action  covering  the  whole  psycho- 
physical performance  in  one  very  extensive  and  necessary 
relation.     And  the  same  holds  good  of  space. 

What  holds  the  high  interacting  parties,  body  and  soul, 
together  ?  ( 3 ) 

(This  question  follows  from  Question  1.)  As  long  as 
they  were  parallel  they  could  be  considered  as  holding  them- 
selves together;  but,  as  we  have  seen,  their  unities  are 
broken.  Surely  a  system  of  interactions  cries  for  a  unity 
just  as  loudly  as  a  system  of  states  of  consciousness  ? 

As  for  the  fourth  and  last  question:  What  holds  the 
multiplicity  of  souls  together  ?  Since  the  souls  interact 
on  each  other,  their  system  of  interactions  calls  for  unity. 

I  do  not  think  that  these  questions  can  be  set  aside  as 


SOME  QUESTIONS  OF  METAPHYSICS      111 

frivolous.  They  are  perfectly  legitimate  problems  arising 
out  of  the  case ;  and  Animism  provides  no  solution  of  them. 

When  it  comes  to  unities,  as  on  the  Animist's  own  show- 
ing it  must  and  does  come,  if  the  unity  of  consciousness 
only  holds  good  within  and  of  consciousness,  then  physical 
unity,  if  there  he  any,  will  hold  good  within  and  of  bodies 
or  matter  generally ;  so  that,  in  the  last  resort  —  and 
there  must  always  be  a  last  resort  —  each  unity  will  form 
a  "  closed  system  " ;  and  the  Animist  must  be  numbered 
among  the  parallelists.  I  do  not  see  how,  without  re- 
course to  a  metaphysical  principle  and  a  metaphysical 
unity,  he  is  to  escape  from  the  position. 

It  is  clear  that  in  that  classification  of  systems  which  I 
have  borrowed  from  Mr,  McDougall  we  are  dealing  with 
two  things :  Psychophysics,  which  has  no  philosophic  axe 
to  grind,  and  Metaphysics. 

Neither  Animism  nor  Psychophysical  Parallelism  pro- 
fesses to  give  us  a  Metaphysic  or  a  Metapsychic ;  but  only 
certain  psychophysical  postulates. 

It  should  also  be  clear  that,  however  much  we  may  wish 
to  separate  them,  we  cannot,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  keep  them 
apart,  if  we  are  to  go  on  with  —  I  won't  say  finish  —  our 
thinking. 

And  I  think  it  should  be  transparently  clear  that  neither 
empirical  nor  a  priori  metaphysics  can  take  up  any  im- 
pregnable position  outside  Psychophysiology,  and  will  not 
advance  very  far,  or  at  any  rate  very  safely,  as  long  as  it 
ignores  the  psychophysical  facts,  however  radiantly  honest 
its  attitude  may  be. 

But  it  may  not  have  been  equally  clear  that  Psycho- 
physiology  cannot  keep  itself  unspotted  by  some  Meta- 
physic or  another ;  that  is  to  say,  if  it  is  to  go  on  with  its 
thinking.  It  can,  and  we  have  seen  that  it  does,  volun- 
tarily arrest  its  thinking  on  its  own  borders  and  refuse  to 
take  the  metaphysical  plunge ;  but,  with  the  first  step  over, 
and  not  even  with  the  first  step  but  with  the  first  look,  with 


112  A  DEFENCE  OF  IDEALISM 

the  affirmation  that  there  is,  and  with  the  affirmation  that 
there  is  not  a  region  beyond  its  border,  it  is  in.  Only  the 
non-committal  attitude  that  acknowledges  that  there  may 
be  a  region  will  save  it  from  the  plunge. 

But  if  the  Psychophysiologist  goes  on  thinking  he  is 
committed  to  a  metaphysic.  For  there  is  a  lurking  meta- 
physic  in  his  most  empirical  conclusions,  and  even  in  his 
non-committal  attitude. 

Let  us  look  back  at  the  systems  we  considered.  They 
may  be  reduced  to  three  types,  as  far  as  body  and  soul  are 
concerned. 

1.  Monism :  the  systems  of  the  One. 

2.  Parallelist  Dualism :  the  systems  of  the  Two  (with  or 

without  assumption  of  an  underlying  One). 

3.  Animism :  or  the  theory  of  the  Mixed. 

To  these,  as  we  leave  the  ground  of  Psychophysics,  we 
shall  have  to  add  Pluralism  in  its  three  forms  of : 

1.  Pragmatism, 

2.  Humanism,  and  the 

3.  New  Eealism, 

which  are  all  systems  of  the  Many. 

Of  these  the  New  Eealism  is  so  new,  so  revolutionary, 
so  dangerous  to  every  form  of  Monism  we  have  consid- 
ered hitherto,  that  it  calls  for  special  treatment  later  on 
and  in  a  place  apart. 

I  have  not  insulted  the  Animist  by  putting  him  among 
the  Parallel-liners,  where,  I  think,  if  he  finished  his  think- 
ing he  would  have  to  go;  because  he  may  quite  honestly 
and  legitimately  decline  to  finish  it.  But  I  have  not  fol- 
lowed Mr.  McDougall,  this  time,  in  putting  Objective 
Idealism  (which  is  somewhat  inadequately  rendered  by 
"Psychical  Monism")  among  the  Parallelisms;  for  I  do 
not  think  this  arrangement  is  fair  to  a  philosophy  which 
cuts  the  knot  by  maintaining,  with  a  stoutness  verging  on 
apoplexy,  that  the  world  arises  in  consciousness,  that  it 


SOME  QUESTIONS  OF  METAPHYSICS      113 

exists  in  and  through  and  for  consciousness,  and  that  con- 
sciousness is  the  "  Thing-in-Itself  "  ;  which  thus  begins  its 
thinking  with  consciousness  as  the  totality  of  experience, 
and  finishes  it  there. 

If  we  consider  each  one  of  these  systems  in  turn  we  shall 
find  that  there  is  not  one  of  them,  no,  not  even  the  most 
non-committal  that  has  not  its  own  dilemma. 

The  dilemma  of  the  out-and-out  Materialist  is  that 
he  must  either  admit  that  consciousness  does  not  come  al- 
together into  his  net,  or  he  must  break  his  own  sacred  law 
of  the  conservation  of  energy.  In  any  case,  if  he  says  that 
psychic  processes  are  an  illusory  by-product  of  physical 
processes,  he  fails  to  show  why  they  should  be  conscious 
processes. 

The  dilemma  of  the  out-and-out  Subjective  Idealist,  or 
Self-Aloner,  is  that  he  must  either  deny  the  existence  of 
other  consciousnesses,  and  of  things  he  is  not  conscious  of 
and  never  could  be;  or  he  must  give  up  his  fundamental 
hypothesis  of  his  ovim  solitary  existence.  If  he  turns  the 
materialist's  position  upside  down  and  says  that  his  ego 
produces  the  physical  series  as  the  illusory  by-product  of 
its  own  psychic  series,  he  fails  to  show  why  it  should  be  at 
the  pains  of  projecting  any  physical  aspect  of  its  psychic 
states,  why  there  shovild  be  an  illusory  appearance  of  a 
parallel  at  all.  If  he  says  that  there  is  no  parallelism 
and  only  one  series,  his  own  psychic  states,  he  fails  to  ac- 
count for  the  existence  of  any  consciousness  other  than  the 
one  he  started  with  —  his  own.  Still  less  can  he  account 
for  the  order  of  physical  things  in  ante-psychic  time.  For 
if  there  is  no  universe  outside  his  private  consciousness, 
the  universe  that  physical  science  shows  us  as  existing  pre- 
vious to  the  appearance  of  his  consciousness  is  a  retro- 
spective illusion;  and  the  manifestations  of  his  neigh- 
bour's consciousness  are  a  past,  present  and  future  illusion ; 
and  his  neighbour's  consciousness  itself,  with  the  universe 
it  carries  about  in  it,  is  the  illusory  hypothesis  of  his 


114  A  DEFENCE  OF  IDEALISM 

thought.  Worse  still,  as  he  is  not  conscious  of  his  own 
neural  processes,  they  also  cannot  be  allowed  to  exist ;  their 
existence  for  another  consciousness,  that  of  the  scientific 
observer,  is  not  existence  in  any  consciousness;  it  must 
therefore  share  the  illusory  quality  of  all  that  attaches  to 
his  neighbour  and  his  neighbour's  consciousness. 

Worst  of  all,  his  own  ego,  the  self  which  should  be  at 
the  bottom  of  the  whole  show,  to  produce  and  maintain 
the  system  of  illusions,  can  have  no  existence  either ;  since 
it  does  not  and  cannot  appear  in  its  own  consciousness. 
The  formula  for  this  theory  must  be:  Consciousness  is 
just  consciousness,  of  nothing,  for  nobody;  and  it  is  no- 
body's consciousness. 

So  that  the  out-and-out  Self-Aloner  must  either  show 
reason  why  he  should  exist  in  this  solitary  and  unsup- 
ported manner ;  which  he  cannot  do,  as  he  has  no  grounds 
to  establish  his  self  on  except  himself ;  or  he  must  acknowl- 
edge the  existence  of  a  world  —  if  it  be  a  world  of  selves 
—  outside  himself,  in  which  case  he  is  no  longer  a  Self- 
Aloner. 

Mr.  McDougall  has  very  clearly  shown  the  sad  plight 
of  the  Parallelist.  His  attitude  has  no  intervals  of  re- 
pose. The  more  strictly  parallelist  he  is,  the  more  he 
denies  interaction,  the  more  he  has  to  keep  jumping  back- 
wards and  forwards  from  one  of  his  lines  to  the  other;  in 
which  case  he  has  to  admit  that  there  is  a  jumping-off- 
place  and  a  landing-place  somewhere,  that  is  to  say,  a 
common  terra  finna  for  thinking  and  acting  on  both  lines. 
His  dilemma  is  like  the  Materialist's.  He  cannot  keep 
his  rules  and  his  principle  too. 

The  dilemma  of  the  Animist,  as  I  have  tried  to  show, 
is  that  without  some  "  higher  unity  "  to  solder  them,  his 
unity  of  consciousness,  and  the  unity  of  all  physical  things, 
finally  form  closed  systems  of  penultimates  running  par- 
allel;  so  that  in  the  long  run  {his  long  run)  he  is  landed 
in  a  dilemma  as  serious  as  any  he  has  exposed.     Either 


SOME  QUESTIONS  OF  METAPHYSICS      115 

he  must  make  the  totals  of  psychic  and  of  physical  interac- 
tions equal  and  opposite,  an  assumption  which  he  has  no 
grounds  for;  in  which  case,  by  the  law  of  causation,  they 
will  cease  to  be  interactions,  and  will  form  one  action  and 
one  phenomenon ;  or,  while  insisting  on  partial  interac- 
tion, he  must  acknowledge  a  greater  unknown  second  quan- 
tity of  actions  and  phenomena  running  parallel.  In  either 
case  the  unity  of  consciousness  is  broken. 

There  are  dilemmas  and  dilemmas. 

There  are  dilemmas  inherent  in  the  nature  of  a  system. 
Such  are  the  dilemmas  of  the  Materialist  and  Idealist 
by-product  theories. 

There  are  dilemmas  which  are  latent  in  a  system,  of 
which  the  upholders  of  the  systems  are  more  or  less  aware. 
Such  are  the  dilemmas  of  the  strict  Parallelist  and  the 
Animist.  Wundt  virtually  abandoned  his  Parallelism  in 
his  principle  of  the  creative  resultants.  You  feel  that  Mr. 
McDougall  has  either  a  monistic  or  a  pluralistic  solution 
up  his  sleeve,  if  his  conscience  as  a  man  of  science  would 
allow  him  to  produce  it. 

And  there  are  dilemmas  which  are  much  more  apparent 
to  the  critics  of  a  system  than  to  its  supporters.  Such  are 
the  dilemmas  of  the  Imperfect  Parallelist,  or  devotee  of  the 
Underlying  Unknown,  and  of  the  Psychical  Monist  or 
Objective  Idealist. 

I  have  left  the  dilemmas  of  these  Monists  to  the  last, 
because  there  are  dilemmas  and  dilemmas ;  and  because, 
since  it  must  needs  be  that  dilemmas  come,  they  seem 
rather  less  unbearable  than  any  of  the  others. 

The  dilemma  of  the  upholders  of  the  Underlying  Un- 
known and  Unknowable  is  that,  in  order  to  prove  that  it  is 
there  at  all,  they  have  to  assume  it  to  be  knowable,  and  in- 
deed known ;  inasmuch  as  it  is  the  gTound  of  its  own  as- 
pects and  appearances.     When  you  have  said  of  your  Un- 


116  A  DEFENCE  OF  IDEALISM 

knowable  that  it  is  Underlying,  or  that  it  is  Substance,  or 
the  only  Reality,  or  the  Thing-in-Itself,  you  have  already 
dragged  it  in  the  net  of  knowledge.  When  you  have  added 
that  it  is  Infinite  or  Absolute,  you  have  to  all  intents 
and  purposes  caught  it  and  made  it  the  object  of  your  think- 
ing. The  one  thing  you  absolutely  don't  know  about  it  is 
whether  it  does  or  does  not  exist.  You  cannot  predicate 
of  it  that  reality  which  was  the  raison  d'etre  of  your  af- 
firming it  at  all. 

Either  you  must  give  up  its  reality,  by  virtue  of  which 
you  declared  it  to  be  unknown  and  unknowable ;  in  which 
case  your  Monism  has  the  bottom  knocked  out  of  it,  and 
you  are  left  with  the  dual  aspects  on  your  hands ;  or,  de- 
claring it  to  be  the  only  real,  you  give  up  its  unknowable- 
ness,  and,  by  defining  it,  have  brought  it  in  under  that 
aspect  and  manifestation  which  is  thought. 

This  feat  which  his  predecessors  performed  involun- 
tarily, is  the  serious  and  deliberate  accomplishment  of  the 
Objective  Idealist.  There  is  but  one  step  from  the  Un- 
derlying Unknown  Eeality  to  Thought  as  the  Thing-in- 
Itself. 

The  Objective  Idealist  does  not  worry  about  dilemmas. 
Consciousness  can  swallow  them  all.  There  is  nothing 
that  it  cannot  swallow.  They  are  logical  dilemmas,  are 
they  not  ?  Very  well,  then.  Already  they  fall  within 
consciousness.  They  are  expressed  in  terms  of  conscious- 
ness and  lend  themselves  most  obligingly  to  the  expression. 
He  does  not  worry  about  the  world  outside  him.  It  is 
outside  his  body,  not  outside  consciousness;  his  body  is 
part  of  it,  and  both  it  and  his  body  are  expressible  in  terms 
of  consciousness.  Why  seek,  or  why  assume  other  modes 
of  expression  ?  If  you  remind  him  that,  on  his  own 
showing,  Nature  is  the  "  other  "  of  Thought,  he  will  say, 
What  if  it  is  ?  Doesn't  that  prove  that  it  falls  within 
consciousness,   since  otherness   is   a   "  thought-relation "  ? 


SOME  QUESTION'S  OF  METAPHYSICS     117 

What  is  I^ature  but  a  network  of  relations,  and  what  are 
relations  but  the  work  of  thought  ?  The  terms  of  the  re- 
lation ?  You  don't  suppose  I've  been  so  simple  as  not  to 
allow  for  them  ?  What  are  your  precious  terms  when 
all's  said  and  done,  and  you've  analysed  all  the  thought 
out  of  them  ?  Sensations ;  and  if  sensation  is  not  con- 
sciousness I  should  like  to  know  what  is.  Changes,  you 
say,  not  of  consciousness  nor  for  consciousness  ?  Changes, 
let  me  tell  you,  that  wind  up  in  sensation,  bang  in  con- 
sciousness. Changes,  every  one  of  them,  in  the  outside 
world.  World  outside  what?  Consciousness?  Not  a  bit 
of  it.  Outside  and  inside  are  terms  —  if  it's  terms  you're 
talking  about  —  of  consciousness,  or  rather,  they  are 
thought-relations.  Can  you  see  "  outside "  ?  Can  you 
hear  "  outside  "  or  touch  it  ?  Outside  (and  inside)  ex- 
ists only  in  and  for  thought. 

World  in  time  and  space  ?  I  believe  you ;  and  where, 
if  you  please,  are  time  and  space  if  not  in  consciousness  ? 
And  what  are  they  if  not  terms  —  there  you  are  again  — 
of  consciousness  ? 

Changes  of  matter  ?  All  we  know  of  matter  is  expres- 
sible in  terms  of  consciousness;  and  what  we  don't  know 
of  matter  is  not  material  to  my  argument.  Your  argu- 
ment ?  Your  argument  doesn't  matter  so  much,  either ; 
but  —  since  you  insist  —  you're  not  claiming,  are  you, 
that  matter  is  the  Thing-in-Itself  ?  Consciousness  is  the 
Thing-in-Itself.  You  think  matter  as  we  do  not  know  it 
may  be  ?  But  what  sort  of  matter  is  that  ?  I  thought 
you  were  an  empiricist ;  if  you  are,  you've  no  business  to 
jump  like  that  from  the  known  to  the  unknown;  and  if 
you're  not,  you'd  very  much  better  come  in  with  me.  Di- 
rect his  attention  to  the  triumphant  existence  of  the  Paral- 
lel-liner's physical  line  (or  what  is  left  of  it  after  the  Ani- 
mist  has  done  with  it),  the  neural  and  brain  processes  which 
never  are  in  consciousness,  and  he  will  smile  patiently  at 
your  fatuity  while  he  tells  you  that,  if  they  do  not  exist 


118  A  DEFENCE  OF  IDEALISM 

as  sense  perceptions  for  your  consciousness,  or  his,  they 
exist  in  and  for  both  as  knowledges ;  and,  even  if  they 
were  not  in  his  consciousness,  or  yours,  they  are  in  some 
consciousness  as  knowledges ;  and  that  there  is  no  reason 
why  they  should  not  exist  as  sense-perceptions  for  a  con- 
sciousness so  constituted  as  to  perceive  them  sensibly. 
Talk  to  him  of  forces  and  of  energies,  and  of  the  conserva- 
tion of  energy,  of  the  imperceptible  ultimate  constituents 
of  matter,  of  ether  and  electrons,  and  all  the  impalpable 
and  imponderable  postulates  of  physical  science,  and  he 
will  floor  you  with  the  same  argument.  Draw  for  him 
the  picture  of  the  aeons  of  past  time,  of  solar  systems 
rolling  unperceived  through  space,  of  lifeless  seas,  and  of 
glacial  ranges  subsisting  in  their  august  and  solitary  un- 
knownness  before  sense  and  thought  were  ever  dreamed  of, 
and  he  will  repeat  that  the  picture  itself  is  not  only  drawn 
in  lines  of  consciousness  but  coloured  deeply  with  its  dyes ; 
and  he  will  ask  you  where  and  when  these  spectatorless 
dramas  could  have  been  played,  if  not  in  space  and  time, 
which  he  maintains,  not  without  a  show  of  reason,  to  be 
thought-relations  which  need  no  duplicate;  and  he  will 
invite  you  in  your  turn  to  eliminate  all  possible  forms  of 
consciousness  from  the  universe,  and  picture,  if  you  can, 
how  much  would  be  left  of  it. 

Mr.  McDougall  cannot  hope  to  disconcert  him  with  that 
little  joke  about  eating  without  an  eater  and  without  any- 
thing to  eat,  any  more  than  you  could  shatter  Kant  with 
the  old  pragmatist  wheeze  of  the  thousand  thalers;  both 
instances  being  drawn  from  a  region  below  the  level  of  the 
enquiry.  He  takes  his  stand  on  the  firm  ground  that  con- 
sciousness at  any  rate  is  "  given  " ;  and  if  you  are  indis- 
creet enough  to  talk  about  eating,  his  obvious  answer  is 
that  he  alone  among  philosophers  is  not  trying  to  eat  his 
cake  and  have  it  too.  He  alone  is  unthreatened  by  either 
horn  of  a  dilemma. 

And  when  angry  with  him,  this  time,  you  turn  and  ask 


SOME  QUESTIONS  OF  METAPHYSICS      119 

him  how  he  dare  mention  Kant,  who  was  worth  fifteen  of 
him,  he  will  refer  you  to  Kant's  Prolegomena  to  any 
Future  Metaphysic,  and  swear  that  Kant  was  on  his  side 
all  the  time  with  his  unity  of  apperception,  only  that  he 
hadn't  the  courage  to  say  so.  He  will  add  that  Kant  de- 
liberately dished  the  Transcendental  Kealist  (or  Absolute 
Idealist)  show  in  order  to  exalt  Practical  Keason  at 
Pure  Reason's  expense,  and  prove  himself  the  most  moral 
man  in  Konigsberg.  He  will  suggest,  not  without  plausi- 
bility, that  if  people  would  only  read  Kant's  Prolegomena 
and  his  Critique  of  Judgment  more,  and  the  two  Critiques 
of  Reason  a  little  less,  they  would  see  that  there  wasn't 
such  a  great  difference  between  him  and  the  Idealists  after 
all. 

At  this  point  you  will  perhaps  remind  him  that  Hegel's 
Naturphilosophie  was  not  exactly  a  work  its  author  could 
be  proud  of ;  and  that  Naturphilosophie  was  ever  the  weak 
spot  in  the  Idealist's  armour;  but  he  will  stand  his 
ground,  protesting  that,  if  Hegel  had  not  been  so  bent  on 
keeping  his  chair  at  Berlin  by  bolstering  up  the  doctrine  of 
the  Trinity,  he  would  have  been  more  in  earnest  with 
the  "  otherness  "  of  Nature ;  he  would,  that  is  to  say,  have 
seen  that  if  Nature  is  to  be  the  "  other  "  of  Thought,  the 
more  otherly  she  behaves  the  better,  and  that  that  is  why 
Nature  kicks  against  the  Triple  Dialectic. 

If  you  ask  him  what  he  will  do,  supposing,  just  suppos- 
ing, it  should  be  proved  to-morrow  that  Nature  did  get  in 
first,  and  that  consciousness  really  ivas  an  illusory  by- 
product, he  might  be  staggered  for  a  moment,  but  he  would 
recover  on  the  assurance  that,  even  in  this  case,  conscious- 
ness would  come  out  on  top ;  seeing  that,  once  the  affair 
was  known,  the  scientific  explanation  of  it  must  necessarily 
be  given  in  terms  of  consciousness. 

In  fact,  I  don't  think  the  prospect  would  really  stagger 
him  even  for  a  moment.  You  cannot  starve  into  surren- 
der  a   system   with   such   a  prodigious   "  swallow,"    nor 


120  A  DEFENCE  OF  IDEALISM 

"  down  "  an  opponent  with  such  an  inexhaustible  capacity 
for  retort. 

Almost  you  could  believe  that  Objective  Idealism  is  the 
winning  horse,  and  that  you  could  do  worse  than  back  it. 

Almost,  but  not  quite.  The  Objective  Idealist's  horse 
is  a  remarkably  fine  animal,  and  of  an  incomparable  speed. 
He  can  cover  the  greatest  possible  space  in  the  smallest  pos- 
sible time,  and  you  cannot  "  wind  "  him.  That  the  Ob- 
jective Idealist's  wind  is  his  only  merit  is  the  opinion  of 
most  people  who  have  tried  to  hold  out  under  his  inter- 
minable recitative ;  whereas  his  great  and  undeniable  merit 
is  his  almost  infantile  simplicity.  But  he  is  vulnerable  in 
two  places. 

Ask  him  what  he  makes  of  unconscious  thinking,  of 
sleep  and  of  forgetting,  which  are  small  holes,  but  still 
palpable  holes  in  the  general  web  of  consciousness,  holes 
which  can  never  be  filled  up  %  the  device  of  calling  them 
knowledges ;  he  ought  to  be  able  to  say  that  no  conscious- 
ness is  lost  for  ever,  but  that  things  lost  for  us  and  for- 
gotten are  stored  and  remembered  in  the  Absolute;  but 
unless  he  is  an  Absolute  Idealist  he  cannot  say  it. 

Ask  him  what  he  makes  of  the  gi*eat  energies  of  in- 
stinct and  of  love,  of  will  and  purpose  and  action,  of  con- 
science and  ethical  values  and  aesthetic  values,  and  he 
will  tell  you  that  he  makes  nothing  of  them  except  that 
they  are  states  of  consciousness  like  any  other,  and  —  if 
he  is  consistent  —  that  one  state  of  consciousness  is  as 
good,  because  it  is  as  real  as  any  other. 

He  is  either  so  absorbed  in  his  vast  vision  of  the  world 
"  arising  in  consciousness,"  so  satisfied  with  his  fairly 
easy  reduction  of  everything  in  the  universe  to  states  of 
consciousness,  or  so  intent  on  his  series  of  unanswerable 
repartees,  that  he  has  never  paused  to  consider  what  con- 
sciousness itself  may  be  doing  all  the  time,  and  how  its 
states  are  behaving  among  themselves. 

And  his  secret  dilemma,  which  he  will  not  acknowledge, 


SOME  QUESTIONS  OF  METAPHYSICS      121 

is  this:  He  has  cut  the  Thing-in-Itself  very  cleverly  out 
of  the  problem  and  packed  all  Reality  into  states  of  con- 
sciousness ;  not  my  states,  or  your  states,  but  all  the  states 
of  all  the  consciousness  there  is ;  so  that  the  sum  of  Eeality 
will  be  simply  the  sum  of  the  states.  No  state  of  con- 
sciousness, on  his  own  showing,  can  be  more  real  than  any 
other  state.  But  Totality,  the  sum  of  all  states,  must  be 
more  real  than  any  one  state  or  any  number  of  states.  So 
that  his  Eeality  is  purely  quantitative,  and  every  lapse  of 
consciousness,  no  matter  whose  or  what  —  and  these  lapses 
are  constantly  occurring  —  will  be  a  dead  loss  of  reality 
to  the  Universe.  And  unless  he  can  show  that  this  loss  is 
made  good  somewhere  and  made  good  all  the  time,  reality 
must  suffer  very  seriously.  In  order  to  make  good  the 
loss,  he  must  give  up  his  assumption  that  all  states  of  con- 
sciousness are  equally  real ;  so  that  he  may  protect  himself 
by  the  further  assumption  that  what  the  Universe  has  lost 
in  quantity  it  has  gained  in  quality  (which  is  impossible 
to  prove).  In  this  case  he  must  either  abandon  his  theory 
of  consciousness  as  sufficient  reality  in  itself,  or  he  must 
take  refuge  in  an  Absolute  Consciousness.  Say  that,  like 
a  wise  man,  he  takes  sanctuary.  Even  then  he  is  no  better 
off.  For  he  cannot  contend  that  his  Absolute  is  real  qua 
Absolute.  Consciousness  being  the  only  reality,  his  Abso- 
lute can  be  only  real  qua  Consciousness.  So  that,  strictly 
speaking,  he  had  no  right  to  summon  it  qua  Absolute  to 
his  aid.  But  he  has  done  it,  and  is  now  faced  with  the 
further  dilemma.  If  Consciousness  is  only  real  qua  Ab- 
solute, all  those  states  of  consciousness  which,  on  his  own 
showing,  consisted  chiefly,  or  entirely,  of  thought-relations 
are  unreal.  He  cannot  save  himself  by  picking  out  the 
terms  of  the  relation  from  the  relation  and  declaring  them 
real;  for  it  was  just  their  capacity  for  entering  into  rela- 
tions that  entitled  them  to  reality  within  his  closed  sys- 
tem. Nor  can  he  purchase  reality  for  them  by  merging 
them  with  his  Absolute,  except  at  the  price  of  the  Oneness 


122  A  DEFENCE  OF  IDEALISM 

to  which  he  was  pledged.  For  then  he  has  indeed  found 
the  true  home  of  the  irreducible  term  (shorn  of  its  thought- 
relations),  which  must  be  held  henceforth  to  exist  within 
the  Absolute  with  all  the  absolute  reality  of  the  Absolute ; 
yet,  at  one  blow,  he  has  deprived  of  reality  his  entire  sys- 
tem of  thought-relations.  It  is  all  up  with  the  "  diamond 
net "  in  which  he  had  so  skilfully  ensnared  the  uni- 
verse. 

He  must  now  confess  that  appearance,  not  to  say  unreal- 
ity, in  the  form  of  relativity,  enters  largely  into  conscious- 
ness ;  since  Absolute  Consciousness  is  the  only  Eeal.  This 
appearance  must  either  exist  within  Absolute  Conscious- 
ness, infecting  it  with  relativity ;  besides  setting  up  a  schism 
inside  it  as  against  the  "  real  "  terms ;  or  it  exists  in  states 
of  consciousness  outside  it;  in  which  case  Absolute  Con- 
sciousness will  be  set  up  over  against  Relative  Conscious- 
ness in  a  relation  of  absolute  to  relative ;  when  it  is  all  up 
with  the  Absolute. 

Even  the  Self-Aloner  is  not  in  a  more  horrible  position. 
He  can  swallow  the  entire  Universe,  and  the  Absolute 
with  it,  in  one  sacramental  mouthful,  since  at  least  he  has 
given  himself  a  "  Self  "  to  swallow  with. 

'Now,  when  we  behold  the  collapse  of  one  metaphysical 
system  after  another,  and  of  one  psj^cho-physical  theory 
after  another,  and  find  the  cause  of  the  collapse  in  some 
inherent  dilemma,  three  courses  are  open  to  us. 

We  may  abandon  all  systems  and  all  theories  henceforth 
and  for  ever.  This  is  the  counsel  of  prudence  and  of 
caution.     It  is  also  the  counsel  of  intellectual  despair. 

Or  we  may  try  to  build  up  another  system  and  another 
theory  out  of  all  the  old  ruins  on  a  new  site.  This  is  what 
has  been  done  with  metaphysical  systems  from  time  imme- 
morial, and  done  with  perfect  ease;  it  merely  involves 
shifting  the  material  and  rearranging  the  already  general- 
ized terms  of  the  problem.     But  we  cannot  play  in  the 


SOME  QUESTION'S  OF  METAPHYSICS     123 

same  light-hearted  fashion  with  psychophysical  material, 
which  has  its  own  attachments  and  its  own  territory,  and 
refuses  obstinately  to  be  shifted  on  to  new  ground.  In 
any  case,  the  chances  are  that  our  precious  erection  would 
have  most  of  the  bad  points  of  its  predecessors  with  a  spe- 
cial and  incurable  shakiness  of  its  own. 

Or  we  may  go  back  to  the  old  systems  and  the  old  theo- 
ries, to  see  whether  they  had  anything  in  common,  and  if 
so  what,  and  try  to  find  out  the  root  of  the  dilemmas  which 
were  the  cause  of  their  collapse.  We  have  got  to  face  the 
fact  that  the  psychophysical  problem  has  complicated  our 
problem  very  seriously. 

Supposing  we  find  that  all,  without  exception,  have  a 
common  interest  and  a  common  end,  and  that  their  several 
dilemmas  have  a  common  root,  we  shall  have  gained,  not 
perhaps  enough  to  build  with,  but  enough  not  to  despair 
of  building  henceforth  and  for  ever. 

iN'ow  it  cannot  be  maintained  that  all  metaphysical  sys- 
tems and  theories  seek  unity,  in  the  teeth  —  the  really 
very  sharp  and  ferocious  teeth  —  of  the  New  Realism 
which  has  gone  out  of  its  way  to  avoid  it.  The  ITew 
Realism  is  out  and  out  Pluralism.  But  certainly  all  the 
systems  and  all  the  theories  we  have  considered  yet  have 
this  thing  in  common  —  the  quest  for  unity,  some  kind  of 
unity,  no  matter  what.  The  desired  One  may  be  matter, 
or  it  may  be  mind ;  it  may  be  the  Ego ;  it  may  be  just  Con- 
sciousness; or  it  may  be  an  unknown  and  unknowable 
tertium  quid,  Substance,  Thing-in-Itself,  the  Absolute,  the 
Unconscious,  the  Life-Eorce.  It  is  implicit  in  the  very 
dilemmas  of  the  systems  that  have  repudiated  it. 

First,  then,  we  have  to  see  whether  the  dilemmas  we 
have  considered  have  a  common  root. 

We  have  seen  Vitalism  fall  from  one  dilemma  into  an- 
other, because  of  the  ultimate  reality  it  ascribed  to  matter, 
and  the  metaphysical  importance  it  gave  to  action.  It 
seeks  unity,  it  seeks  reality,  but  it  cannot  find  it.     And 


124  A  DEFENCE  OF  IDEALISM 

the  root  of  its  dilemma  is  that  it  looked  for  ultimate  reality 
in  a  penultimate  place. 

The  dilemma  of  the  thorough-paced  materialist  was  that 
he  could  only  save  his  materialism  at  the  cost  of  the  em- 
pirical law  he  based  it  on.  Clearly  he  would  not  have 
fallen  into  that  dilemma  if  he  had  not  given  to  matter  an 
ultimate  reality,  and  conceived  it  as  doing  what,  as  a 
purely  mechanical  phenomenon,  it  was  powerless  to  do; 
besides  giving  to  a  purely  physical  law  a  metaphysical 
validity  he  should  have  been  the  last  to  claim  for  it.  In 
other  words,  he  looked  for  ultimate  reality  in  the  wrong 
place. 

The  dilemma  of  the  thorough-paced  Subjective  Idealist 
was  that,  in  denying  the  existence  of  any  reality  outside 
himself,  he  cut  away  the  ground  from  any  possible  proof 
of  his  own  existence.  Again  the  root  of  his  dilemma  was 
the  quest  of  ultimate  reality  in  the  wrong  place. 

The  dilemma  of  the  less  consistent  types  of  Parallel- 
liners  was  that,  placing  Keality  in  a  mysterious  third 
Something,  expressly  stated  to  be  either  Unconscious  or 
not  definable  in  terms  of  consciousness,  they  straightway 
fell  into  either  defining  it  plumply  and  plainly  in  terms  of 
consciousness,  or  bringing  it  into  such  relation  with  con- 
sciousness as  to  compromise  very  seriously  its  neutrality. 

The  root  of  their  dilemma  was  that,  while  they  distin- 
guished clearly  between  appearance  and  reality,  and  recog- 
nized that  body  and  soul,  matter  and  mind,  brain  processes 
and  consciousness,  are  equally  phenomenal,  they  yet  placed 
Reality  in  some  Third  Principle  from  which  they  had 
previously  abstracted  every  sign  and  mark  of  the  Eeal. 
They  also  were  looking  for  Reality  in  the  wrong  place. 

The  dilemma  of  the  thorough-paced  Parallel-liner  was 
that,  the  harder  he  drove  his  system  on  two  lines,  the  more 
it  tended  to  leave  them.  And  the  root  of  the  dilemma  is 
again  the  same.  In  renouncing  the  quest  of  the  Ultimate 
Reality  he  is  obliged  to  ascribe  to  mere  psychophysical 


SOME  QUESTIONS  OF  METAPHYSICS      125 

processes  the  metapsychic  and  metaphysical  functions  they 
have  not.  If  you  cannot  say  that  he,  too,  has  looked  for 
ultimate  reality  in  the  wrong  place,  since  he  was  not  look- 
ing for  it  at  all,  he  has  looked  on  at  the  usurpation  of  its 
place  and  power. 

Nor  can  it  be  said  that  Objective  Idealism,  or  even  that 
Absolute  Idealism  escapes;  in  spite  of  its  tremendous 
swallow.  If  the  Vitalist  makes  too  much  of  action,  the 
Objective  Idealist  makes  too  little.  His  dilemma  was 
that,  having  defined  reality  in  such  terms  of  consciousness 
as  to  eliminate  all  elements  of  consciousness  other  than 
thought-relations,  he  infected  his  Absolute  with  relativity, 
and  was  forced  to  deny  to  Thought  the  ultimate  reality 
he  had  claimed  for  it  in  the  beginning. 

The  root  of  his  dilemma  is  transparent.  He,  too, 
looked  for  ultimate  reality  in  the  wrong  place,  in  conscious- 
ness held  together  by  thought-relations  and  by  nothing 
else. 

Animism  is  safe  from  dilemma  only  so  long  as  it  has 
not  declared  openly  against  metaphysical  Monism.  It 
would  be  unfair  to  press  any  argument  hostile  to  Pluralism 
against  Animism  as  represented  by  Mr.  McDougall,  still 
more  unfair  to  fasten  on  him  an  opinion  he  would  dis- 
allow. His  is  clearly  a  case  of  suspended  judgment.  So 
long  as  he  forbears  to  take  the  final  plunge  into  any  meta- 
physical g-ulf  I  have  no  right  to  picture  him  as  hovering 
on  the  brink. 

Leaving  Animism,  then,  to  its  suspended  judgment,  we 
may  say  that,  with  this  doubtful  exception,  all  those  sys- 
tems and  theories,  psychophysical  or  metaphysical,  had 
some  one  ultimate  reality  for  their  common  end.  And  all, 
in  mistaking  one  or  other  set  of  appearances  for  ultimate 
reality,  or  one  part  of  reality  for  the  Whole,  have  betrayed 
the  common  root  of  their  dilemmas. 

All  looked  for  Reality,  looked  for  Unity,  and  looked  for 
it  in  the  wrong  place. 


126  A  DEFENCE  OF  IDEALISM 

It  would  seem,  then,  that  the  universe  is  not  built  up 
from  the  Life-Force  in  action  upon  matter  alone;  nor 
from  Matter  itself  alone;  nor  from  the  Individual  Self 
alone ;  nor  from  an  Unknown  and  Unknowable  alone ;  nor 
from  Body  and  Soul  alone ;  nor  from  Consciousness  alone ; 
still  less  from  Thought  alone  that  lands  you  in  the  barren 
Absolute. 

But,  if  there  were  one  term  that  would  cover  all  these 
terms:  Life-Force;  Matter;  Individual  Self;  Substance; 
Thing-in-Itself,  the  Unknown  and  Unknowable  or  possible 
Third;  Soul;  Consciousness;  Thought;  the  Absolute;  one 
term  which,  besides  covering  all  these,  covers  also  that 
which  has  slipped  away  from  them  —  Will  and  Love, 
that  term,  could  we  find  it,  would  stand  for  the  Reality 
we  want.  We  want  a  term  infinitely  comprehensive,  and 
perfectly  elastic ;  and  a  term  that  does  some  modest  sacri- 
fice to  the  Unknown.  For  the  vice  of  those  terms  was 
that  none  was  elastic,  none  was  comprehensive;  but  that 
some  one  excluded,  inevitably,  some  other. 

If  we  could  put  that  term  in  every  place  where  we  have 
used  those  others  I  do  not  think  that  the  same  dilemmas 
would  arise. 

To  the  Unity  and  the  Reality  we  are  looking,  for  we  can 
give  no  name  but. Spirit.  This  leaves  a  wide  margin  for 
the  Unknown. 


PKAGMATISM  AND  HUMANISM 

The  doctrine  of  the  One  has  been  worked  so  hard  and 
so  incessantly  and  with  such  passionate  variance  among 
its  adherents  as  to  the  nature  of  their  "  One,"  that  the 
reaction  against  it  was  bound  to  set  in,  and  the  tendency 
of  modern  metaphysical  thought  is  in  favour  of  the  Two 
or  the  Many. 

It  was  said  that  there  are  dilemmas  latent  in  a  system, 
of  which  the  upholders  of  the  system  are  more  or  less 
aware. 

But  a  system  may  have  a  dilemma  lurking  in  it  of  which 
its  upholder  is  not  at  all  aware. 

Pragmatism  and  Humanism  are  such  systems.  At  first 
sight  they  seem,  like  Psychophysical  Parallelism,  to  be 
exceptions;  but  they  also  are  exceptions  that  pay  an  un- 
conscious homage  to  the  rule,  an  unconscious  craving  for 
the  unity  they  spurn. 

The  spurning,  of  course,  was  inevitable,  by  way  of  a 
change.  Mr.  F.  C.  S.  Schiller,  ostensibly  a  Pluralist, 
subsides  into  a  sort  of  ethical  Dualism ;  ^^  while  Mr.  Wil- 
liam James  is  all  for  a  Pluralistic  Universe.  Even  Mr. 
McDougall,  who  may  be  suspected  of  cherishing  some  sort 
of  metaphysical  principle  up  his  sleeve  (he  has  at  least 
deprecated  the  imputation  of  metaphysical  Dualism), 
even  Mr.  McDougall  joins  with  the  pragmatists  in  robust 
derision  of  the  monist,  the  slave  of  his  "  appetite  for 
unity."  They  deny  that  the  craving  for  unity  is  a  uni- 
versal craving,  or  even  a  legitimate  hunger.     They  do  not 

127 


128  A  DEFENCE  OE  IDEALISM 

feel  it;  no  good  pragmatist  could  feel  it;  the  vast  majority 
of  mankind  are  born  utterly  without  it;  therefore  it  is 
clear  that  it  is  by  no  means  a  universal  need.  They  do 
not  go  quite  so  far  as  to  say  that  it  doesn't  exist,  since  cer- 
tain absurd  people  do  feel  it ;  but  they  let  you  see  that  they 
regard  the  sincerity  of  these  people  as  more  dubious  than 
their  absurdity. 

Besides  this  suggestion  of  insincerity,  the  unpopular 
monist  is  taunted  with  his  supposed  belief  that  his  One 
is  holier  and  "  nobler,"  than  the  Many ;  whereas  what  he 
does  believe  is  that,  as  an  ultimate  metaphysical  principle, 
it  is  more  necessary. 

The  driving  wedge  of  the  pragmatic  humanist's  attack 
on  Monism  is  practically  its  argument  ad  hominem. 
"  Humanism,"  Mr.  Schiller  says,  "  like  Common  Sense, 
of  which  it  may  claim  to  be  the  philosophic  working-out, 
takes  Man  for  granted  as  he  stands,  in  the  world  of  man's 
experience  as  it  has  come  to  seem  to  him."  Eor,  "  even 
Pragmatism  is  not  the  final  term  of  philosophic  innova- 
tion: there  is  yet  a  greater  and  more  sovereign  principle 
now  entering  the  lists,  of  which  it  can  only  claim  to  have 
been  the  forerunner  and  vicegerent."  This  is  only  an  in- 
spired way  of  saying  that  Pragmatism  lands  you  in 
Humanism,  as  indeed  it  does.  As  for  the  principles  the 
miserable  monist  deals  in  — "  Pure  Being,  the  Idea,  the 
Absolute,  the  Universal  I  " —  what  are  they  "  but  pitiful 
abstractions  from  experience,  mutilated  shreds  of  human 
nature,  whose  real  value  for  the  understanding  of  life  is 
easily  outweighed  by  the  living  experience  of  an  honest 
man  ?  "  ^^ 

There  you  are ;  could  anything  be  plainer  ?  If  Man  is 
not  the  Measure  of  all  things,  an  honest  man,  besides  be- 
ing the  noblest  work  of  God,  is  the  measure  of  metaphysi- 
cal truth  —  and  no  other  sort  of  man  is. 

If  the  monist  does  not  like  the  turn  affairs  are  taking, 
he  has  nobody  but  himself  to  thank  for  it. 


PRAGMATISM  AND  HUMANISM         129 

Now  the  honest  man,  the  plain  man,  the  man  in  the 
street,  I'liomme  sensuel  moyen,  to  whom  Pragmatism 
makes  its  plain  common-sense  appeal,  does  not  reckon 
among  his  familiar  interests  any  conspicuous  appetite  for 
unity.  He  can  grasp  a  working  hypothesis  applied  to 
everyday  life;  he  can  see  the  point  of  the  little  joke  about 
Pot-and-Pantheism ;  but  you  may  "  work "  with  two  or 
five  hundred  ultimate  principles  for  all  he  cares.  And  in 
the  last  resort  it  is  on  his  utter  indifference  to  the  event 
that  the  pragmatist  is  banking  when  he  frames  his  neat 
arguments  against  unity  as  a  metaphysical  ultimate  and 
a  necessity  of  metaphysical  thought. 

It  may  turn  out  that  unity  is  no  such  necessity;  but 
surely  the  honest  man's  unawareness  of  it  is  neither  here 
nor  there?  Ten  to  one  the  honest  man  will  be  equally 
unaware  of  the  unity  of  consciousness  until  some  psy- 
chologist or  metaphysician  explains  the  point  to  him ;  but, 
when  he  sees  it,  ten  to  one,  if  he  doesn't  tell  his  informant 
to  go  —  where  bad  metaphysicians  do  go,  he  will  let  him 
know  that  he  could  have  told  him  that,  in  fewer  words  and 
with  less  trouble.  Por  in  matters  that  he  does  understand 
the  honest  man  is  very  far  from  lacking  in  a  sense  of 
unity. 

Where  the  pragmatist  will  seem  to  the  plain  man  to 
score  is  in  taking  the  existence  of  the  Many  for  granted 
"  as  it  stands."  The  Many  undoubtedly  are  there,  and 
their  existence  does  not,  on  the  first  blush  of  it,  suggest 
the  existence  of  the  One.  And  the  assumed  existence  of 
the  One  does  not,  in  itself,  help  you  to  understand  the 
existence  of  the  Many. 

This  statement  sounds  like  common  sense  to  the  plain 
man.  And  as  long  as  you  are  dealing  with  an  abstract 
One,  and  an  abstract  Many  (for  the  pluralist's  Many  is 
every  bit  as  abstract  as  the  monist's  One),  it  is  a  true 
enough  statement.  But  the  humanist  and  pragmatist  do 
not  deal  in  abstractions.     They  deal  with  the  Many  of 


130  A  DEFENCE  OF  IDEALISM 

honest  human  experience,  the  Many  as  they  stand.  And 
the  monist  might  retort :  "  Does  the  Many,  then,  as  it 
stands,  explain  its  own  existence  ?  Do  not  all  attempts  to 
wring  its  secret  from  it  end  in  generalizations  which  are 
unions  and  unities,  not  suggested  by  the  Many  as  they 
stand,  yet  irresistible  ?  Did  not  the  high  priest  of  Prag- 
matism declare  that :  '  The  most  important  sort  of  union 
that  obtains  among  things,  pragmatically  speaking,  is  their 
generic  unity  '  f  And  that :  '  With  no  two  things  alike 
in  the  world,  we  should  be  unable  to  reason  from  our  past 
experiences  to  our  future  ones?'  And  that:  'Absolute 
generic  unity  would  obtain  if  there  were  one  summum 
genus  under  which  all  things  without  exception  could  be 
eventually  subsumed '  ?  (William  James,  Pragmatism, 
pp.  139-140.)  And  does  not  Mr.  Schiller  declare  that 
Matter  is  a  '  baseless  abstraction  '  (Riddles  of  the  Sphinx, 
p.  69)  ;  that  'the  development  of  Matter  and  Spirit  pro- 
ceeds along  converging  lines ;  and  that  by  the  time  the  su- 
persensible is  reached,  a  single  reality  will  be  seen  to  em- 
brace the  manifestations  of  both  '  ?  "  {Kumayiism,  p. 
298.)  So  that  unity  would  seem  to  have  even  a  prag- 
matic sanction. 

Under  all  the  pragmatist's  cheerful  appeals  to  the  honest 
man  there  lies,  half  suppressed,  a  still  more  serious  argu- 
ment. It  turns  on  the  combined  unthinkability  and  non- 
existence of  the  One  without  the  Many.  But  as  the  Many 
is  equally  unthinkable  and  equally  non-existent  without  the 
One,  this  argument  cuts  both  ways.  Either  side  gains  its 
advantage  from  the  insidious  substitution  of  the  relative, 
predicative,  quantitative,  numerical  "  one  "  for  the  Abso- 
lute One  of  the  monist.  You  might  argue  in  this  way  that 
one  pragmatist  is  unthinkable  without  many  pragmatists, 
and  one  God  (if  there  is  a  God)  without  many  gods.  The 
trouble  is  that,  while  we  are  sure  of  the  pragmatists,  we 
are  not  sure  of  the  God.  And  this  is  precisely  where  the 
pragmatic  pluralist's  argument  lands  him ;  and  it  is  where 


PRAGMATISM  AND  HUiv  ^^SM         131 

he  wishes  to  land,  and  always  meant  to  land.  For  by  in- 
sisting on  the  patent  relativity  of  the  one  and  the  many, 
he  is  still  sure  of  an  easy  victory  when  he  works  it  the 
other  way  round:  Many  pragmatists  are  -unthinkable 
without  one  pragmatist,  and  many  gods  without  one  god ; 
a  proposition  where  the  one  pragmatist  and  the  one  god 
figure  as  the  first  imits  in  a  numerical  series,  which  lands 
you  again  in  palpable  plurality.  So  that,  by  this  sur- 
reptitious substitution  of  unit  for  unity,  and  of  quantity 
for  not-quantity,  the  pluralist  gets  plurality  both  ways,  at 
either  end  of  his  proposition. 

But  all  that  has  happened  is  that,  by  his  surreptitious 
substitution,  he  has  insidiously  transferred  the  tainted 
relativity  of  his  predicates,  one  and  many,  to  his  sub- 
stantive God ;  or,  let  us  say,  the  One  Reality.  And  when, 
he  goes  on  to  argue  that  unity  is  unthinkable  and  non- 
existent without  multiplicity,  the  two-edged  nature  of  the 
argument  reveals  itself  at  once.  Multiplicity  is  unthink- 
able and  non-existent  without  unity.  ITeither  side  has  the 
advantage;  but,  this  time,  the  pluralist  doesn't  get  his 
multiplicity  both  ways.  For  unity,  in  the  monist's  sense 
of  one  all-embracing  Reality,  is  certainly  not  the  first  num- 
ber in  a  numerical  series. 

It  is  now  pretty  evident  that  both  sides  are  dealing,  not 
with  the  necessities  of  thought,  but  with  the  barest  ab- 
stractions. 

But  when  the  monlst  contends  that  his  One  is  not  the 
divisible,  multipliable,  numerical  "  one  "  of  mere  quan- 
tity, but  the  Absolute  One  of  self-contained  and  self- 
conditioned  Being,  the  pragmatist  turns  on  him  and  ex- 
poses the  relative  nature  of  his  Absolute.  If  all  things 
are  one  in  the  Absolute,  then  the  Absolute,  being  all  things, 
is  not  one  but  many.  If  the  relative  is  not  the  Absolute, 
then  the  Absolute  is  not  all  things.  Again,  if  the  Abso- 
lute is  not  all  things  it  is  not  the  Absolute ;  because  it  will 
then  stand  in  relation  both  to  the  things  it  is  not  and  to 


132  A  DEFENCE  OF  IDEALISM 

the  things  it  is,  and  thus  cease  to  be  Absolute.  It  holds 
its  thin  prestige  of  Godhead  or  of  cosmic  unity  at  the  cost 
of  all  god-like  or  cosmic  attributes ;  for  the  moment  it  be- 
gins, either  to  be  anything  or  to  do  anything,  it  needs 
must  "  enter  into  relations."  At  every  turn  the  Abso- 
lute of  the  monist  must  face  that  awful  and  incredible 
"  self-diremption,"  which  makes  of  it  a  sort  of  Judas  Is- 
cariot  in  the  potter's  field  of  Philosophy,  a  Judas  without 
any  bowels.  The  sad  process  of  the  Absolute  is  the  sui- 
cide of  the  eternal  through  time. 

The  Absolute,  in  short,  is  the  most  flagrant  instance  of 
an  empty,  impotent,  adjectival  abstraction  —  and  a  nega- 
tive abstraction  at  that  —  posing  as  a  cosmos  or  God. 

And  Being  is  in  no  better  case.  What  is  Being,  any- 
how, but  an  abstraction  of  the  copula  "  is,"  by  which 
predicates  are  hooked  on  to  their  substantives  ?  It  is  hard 
indeed  to  see  wherein  either  is  holier,  or  nobler,  or  more 
convincing  than  any  dual  or  any  plural  principle.  The 
pragmatic  pluralist  can  at  least  show  that  his  plurality  is 
concrete,  that  it  is  something,  and  that  it  is  "  given." 

It  must  be  owned  that  this  form  of  the  pragmatic 
pluralist's  attack  sounds  very  formidable.  All  the  same 
I  think  the  monist's  monotonous  answer  meets  it.  The 
driving  point  of  the  pluralist's  wedge  is  the  assumption 
that  the  relativity  which  is  at  the  bottom  of  all  the  di- 
lemmas, and  which  holds  good  of  the  world  of  appearances, 
holds  equally  good  of  the  world  of  Reality;  and  that, 
while  you  may  and  indeed  must  have  dilemmas  in  the 
sub-metaphysical  world,  they  should  be  strictly  excluded 
from  your  metaphysics.  And  the  Absolutist's  answer  is: 
Quite  so.  The  sub-metaphysical  world  is  the  very  birth- 
place and  the  home  of  dilemmas,  which  is  precisely  the 
reason  why  I  am  driven  to  assume  a  better  and  a  safer 
one.  And  to  the  pragmatist's  sinister  assurances  that  his 
metaphysical  world  is  not  safer,  that  it  is  not  really  half 
so  safe,  his  reply  is  that  the  pragmatist  wilfully  ignores 


PRAGMATISM  AND  HUMANISM         133 

his  point,  and  for  purely  pragmatic  reasons.  His  point, 
which  he  reiterates  with  sickening  persistency,  is  that  what 
appears  as  a  dilemma  in  the  sub-metaphysical  world  is 
not  a  dilemma  in  the  metaphysical  one;  doubt  of  appear- 
ances here  is  the  very  foundation  of  certainty  there,  and 
denial  of  unreality  is  its  crown. 

But  the  good  pragmatist  will  have  none  of  this.  It 
doesn't  matter  what  you  happen  to  be  denying,  denial  is 
bad  Pragmatism. 

"  Du  bist  der  Geist  der  stets  verneint." 

He  is  desperately  afraid  of  any  hand  being  laid  on  the 
actualities  he  loves.  Mr.  Schiller  protests  against  Mr. 
Bradley's  "  conclusion  that  everything  which  is  ordinarily 
esteemed  real,  anything  which  any  one  can  know  or  care 
about,  is  pervaded  with  unreality,  is  '  mere  appearance ' 
in  a  greater  or  less  degree  of  degradation."  He  finds 
that  "  this  antithesis  has  become  to  me  a  considerable 
nuisance,  and  also,  it  must  be  confessed,  a  bit  of  a  bore." 
In  the  heat  of  Pragmatism  he  forgets  that  it  was  his 
Mephistopheles  who  tempted  Faust  to  say  to  the  fleeting 
moment, 

"Verweile  doch,  du  bist  so  schon," 

and  that  the  soul's  perdition  lies  in  confusing  the  passing 
loveliness  with  the  Eternal  and  the  First  Fair. 

But,  after  all,  what  has  Mr.  Bradley  done?  He  has 
never,  so  far  as  I  know,  said  a  word  about  "  degradation," 
or  denied  that  an  appearance  may  be  a  very  noble  and  beau- 
tiful and  even  useful  thing.  He  has  said  nothing  to 
destroy  pragmatic  "  values."  The  pragmatist  is  annoyed 
with  the  antithesis,  which  seems  to  him  to  exalt  Absolute 
Eeality  at  the  expense  of  appearances;  though  he  knows 
perfectly  well  that,  since  appearances  are  "  there,"  since 
they  have  contrived  somehow  to  get  in  first,  they  are  not  a 
bit  the  poorer  for  the  metaphysical  excesses  of  Mr.  Brad- 


134  A  DEFENCE  OF  IDEALISM 

ley's  Absolute.  Yet  the  pragmatist  pays  homage  to  that 
principle  in  his  heart  when  he  ascribes  absolute  reality  to 
the  things  he  knows  and  cares  about. 

And  under  all  his  Pragmatism  lies  the  monstrous  as- 
sumption that  the  honest  man's  knowing  and  caring  are 
the  measure  of  all  the  knowledge  and  all  the  passion  in  the 
universe.  Of  Mr.  Bradley's  Absolute  he  says,  pragmati- 
cally and  humanistically :  "  If  It  be  not  fair  for  me,  what 
care  I  how  fair  It  be  ?  " 

Now  in  the  first  copy  of  Appearance  and  Reality 
that  came  into  my  hands,  fifteen  years  ago,  I  found  that 
the  owner  had  written  on  the  fly-leaf  these  words  of  Saint 
Augustine :  "  Thou  hast  made  us  for  Thyself,  and  our 
hearts  are  restless  till  they  rest  in  Thee."  So  that  some- 
body seems  to  have  cared  about  Mr.  Bradley's  Absolute. 

I  do  not  know  anything  about  the  state  of  Mr.  Bradley's 
affections,  or  whether  he  has  more  or  less  "  heart  "  than  a 
pragmatist ;  I  am  quite  sure  he  has  more  imagination.  He 
would  probably  find  it  no  end  of  a  nuisance  and  a  bore  if 
all  the  nice,  useful  things  the  pragmatist  knows  and  cares 
about  turned  out  to  be  "  absolutely  real." 

Now,  in  the  first  copy  of  Appearance  and  Reality 
pragmatic.  Assume,  as  he  does,  that  Man  is  not  the  meas- 
ure of  all  things,  but  only  of  some  things,  and  that  even 
those  things  are  not  as  they  appear  to  him,  and  you  will 
not  worry  about  dilemmas.  In  a  world  of  appearances  a 
few  dilemmas  more  or  less  will  not  very  greatly  matter. 
But  assume,  as  the  pragmatist  does,  that  things  are  as  they 
appear,  and  a  dilemma  becomes  a  very  serious  affair  in- 
deed. Assume  an  ultimate  Dualism  or  Pluralism;  then, 
since  this  is  the  only  world  that  Pragmatism  allows  us  to 
know  and  care  about,  the  only  world  it  allows  us  to  assume, 
there  is  no  hope  of  a  solution  in  the  '^  highest  synthesis  " 
of  another.  The  pluralistic  pragmatist  abandons  the  hope 
of  any  highest  synthesis,  and  is  happy ;  because  his  genius, 
his  Will-to-believe,  inclines  him  towards  Humanism.     The 


PRAGMATISM  AND  HUMANISM         135 

absolutist  claims  that  the  perfection  of  his  principle  is  its 
capacity  to  swallow  all  dilemmas.  It  is  what  it  is  there 
for. 

Observe  that  there  is  an  implicit  charge  of  arrogance  in 
all  that  the  pragmatist  says  about  the  absolutist.  As  if 
the  absolutist  had  not  made  the  Great  Surrender,  and  as  if 
it  were  he  who  had  made  human  thought  and  human  emo- 
tion, and  human  conduct  and  morality,  "  as  they  stand," 
binding  on  the  transcendent  and  everlasting  Reality ;  as  if 
he  had  not  stripped  himself  bare  for  his  adventure  into 
the  "  untrodden  country."  It  is  an  adventure  on  which  he 
has  staked  his  all. 

This  recklessness  of  his  is  precisely  what  the  pragma- 
tist has  against  him.  It  is,  you  see,  a  question  of  "  values." 
Either  your  relations  with  the  Unseen  are  good  business, 
or  they  are  nothing.  The  pragmatist  feels  that  the  abso- 
lutist is  not  getting  back  his  money's  worth.  He  is  buy- 
ing in  the  dearest  market  and  selling  in  the  cheapest. 
What  is  worse,  he  is  sending  good  money  after  bad.  In- 
stead of  driving  a  profitable  bargain  with  Reality,  as  any 
sensible  man  would,  he  is  plunging.  And  Pragmatism 
abhors  the  plunger.  The  Absolute,  in  pragmatic  language, 
"  does  not  pay."  How  can  a  "  pitiable  abstraction,"  a 
"  mutilated  shred,"  even  of  "  human  "  nature,  be  made  to 
pay? 

Now  there  are  several  ways  in  which  the  absolutist  may 
meet  this  common-sense  attitude.  He  may  say  that  it  is 
not  a  question  of  values,  but  of  truth  or  falsehood,  of  sheer 
logical  compulsion  or  the  reverse,  and  that  logic  drives  him 
to  the  assumption  of  the  Absolute.  He  may  say  that, 
whether  the  pragmatist  likes  it  or  not,  the  conception  of  the 
Absolute  is  not  a  mutilated  shred  of  human  experience,  but 
a  necessity  of  thought.  It  is  not  to  be  accounted  for  by 
any  description  of  the  way  in  which  the  human  psyche 
arrives  at  conception  in  the  course  of  its  evolution.  It  is 
not  obtained  by  picking  human  experience  to  pieces.     So 


136  A  DEFENCE  OF  IDEALISM 

far  as  it  is  "  obtained  "  at  all,  it  is  obtained  by  testing  all 
the  "  ultimate  "  principles  of  empiricism  and  finding  them 
wanting.  And  they  are  found  wanting  precisely  because 
they  are  —  not  absolute. 

This,  his  opponent  says  triumphantly,  is  making  human 
thought  the  measure  with  a  vengeance.  You  see,  you  can- 
not get  away  from  Humanism  after  all. 

It  is  nothing  of  the  kind,  the  absolutist  retorts.  You 
are  simply  quibbling.  My  principle  is  expressly  stated  as 
transcending  human  thought,  in  so  far  as  thought  is  human, 
yours  is  not.  It  is  presupposed  in  human  experience,  but 
—  unless  we  are  agreed  to  include  the  Beatific  Vision  as 
part  of  human  experience  —  it  is  not  found  there. 

He  may  also  say  that  the  Absolute  is  under  no  obligation 
to  pay  him,  and  that  he  is  not  looking  for  payment.  Or,  if 
he  takes  the  line  that  he  has  faith  in  the  Absolute,  and  be- 
lieves that  it  will  pay  him  in  the  long  run,  I  don't  see  what 
the  pragmatist  is  to  do  about  it.  He  is  pledged  to  the 
principle  of  the  Will-to-believe,  and  the  absolutist's  Will-to- 
believe  is  as  good  as  his. 

In  any  case,  it  is  the  pragmatist  who  begs  the  question 
when  he  says  that  the  Absolute  is  an  abstraction.  So  it 
is,  from  his  point  of  view.  When  you  have  pinned  your 
whole  faith  to  the  plump  reality  of  a  pluralistic  universe, 
strictly  conditioned,  the  Absolute  must  needs  be  the 
emptiest  of  abstractions.  But  even  an  uncompromising  ab- 
solutist like  Mr.  Bradley  would  claim  that  his  principle  is 
the  most  concrete  of  all  concrete  things,  since,  on  the  theory, 
it  has  swallowed  up  the  whole  Pluralistic  Universe  of  the 
pragmatist,  and  is  ready  to  swallow  as  many  more  as  fast 
as  the  pragmatist  produces  them. 

For  his  is  not  the  frivolous  contention  that  his  Absolute 
has  merely  the  largest  swallow.  As  M.  Bergson  distin- 
guishes between  Pure  Time  and  spurious,  popular  clock- 
time,  he  distinguishes  between  the  true  Absolute,  which  is 
the  Self-conditioned,  and  the  spurious,  popular  Absolute, 


PRAGMATISM  AND  HUMANISM         137 

the  Unconditioned  tout  court,  which  he  grants  you  is  noth- 
ing better  than  a  negation,  and  liable  to  be  bowled  over  by 
the  first  robust  "  condition  "  that  comes  its  way.  He  dis- 
tinguishes between  the  true  Infinite,  which  includes  the 
finite,  whose  image  is  the  circle,  and  the  spurious  Infinite 
which  is  the  finite  all  over  again,  the  infinitely  divisible, 
the  process  ad  infinitum,  whose  image  is  the  line.  There 
is  no  end  to  the  dilemmas  of  the  Infinite  if  you  insist  on 
tainting  it  with  the  unrealities  of  space  and  time.  If  you 
taunt  the  absolutist  with  his  everlasting  negations,  he  can 
retort  that  the  negation  of  a  negation  is  not  a  negation,  and 
that  it  is  up  to  you  to  prove  the  reality  of  things,  "  as  they 
stand,"  since  you  care  so  much  about  their  status. 

There  is  one  metaphysical  situation,  and  only  one,  which 
would  give  rise  to  the  dilemma  which  the  pragmatist  urges 
against  him.  He  will  agree  that  if  the  situation  were  such 
that  his  absolute  Reality  were  relative  to  another  absolute 
Reality,  the  two  absolutes  would  then  be  relative,  and  in 
their  mutual  relativity  would  kill  each  other.  Which  is 
his  reason  for  contending  that  there  are  not  two  absolute 
Realities  or  many  absolute  Realities,  but  one  Absolute 
Reality. 

But  as  for  his  Absolute  "  entering  into  relations,"  like 
an  Honest  Man  entertaining  a  business  proposition,  he 
denies  that  it  does  anything  of  the  kind.  It  could  only 
enter  into  relations  if  it  were  one  term  of  the  relation 
only;  but  it  is  both  terms,  and  the  relation;  for,  on  the 
theory,  it  is  all  that  is.  Its  function,  as  Absolute,  is  to 
maintain  itself  and  manifest  itself  through  things  in  rela- 
tion, and,  as  One,  to  maintain  and  manifest  itself  in  multi- 
plicity. If  you  appeal  to  the  Law  of  Contradiction,  and 
protest  that  two  contradictory  propositions  cannot  be  up- 
held seriously  by  any  sane  mind,  he  can  point  trium- 
phantly to  the  fact  that  they  can  be,  and  are,  united,  both 
in  conception  and  in  actuality.  What  God  hath  joined, 
let  no  pragmatist  put  asunder. 


138  A  DEFENCE  OF  IDEALISM 

In  short,  the  pragmatic-pluralist  finds  multiplicity  every- 
where he  goes  and  unity  nowhere  apart  from  it ;  while  the 
absolute  monist  has  to  go  no  farther  than  his  own  conscious- 
ness to  find  the  unity  which  is  always,  so  to  speak,  top 
dog.  And  there  would  not  be  a  pin  to  choose  between  them 
if  the  absolutist  did  not  mean  rather  more  than  he  actually 
commits  himself  to  saying,  and  if  the  pragmatist  had  not 
a  sharper  appetite  for  unity  than  he  cares  to  own  to. 

For  the  student  of  metaphysics  there  may  be  something 
nobly  serious  in  this  desperate  contention,  conducted  on 
one  side  with  scorn  and  derision,  and  on  the  other  with  im- 
perturbable aplomb.  But,  to  the  student  of  literature, 
born  without  any  metaphysical  prejudices,  it  looks  as  if 
each  side  were  criticising  the  other  with  the  crudest  liter- 
alism, a  literalism  which  he  would  be  ashamed  to  bring  to 
the  interpretation  of  a  classic. 

To  him  it  seems  that,  under  the  interminable  webs  of 
reasoning  the  absolutist  wraps  his  meaning  up  in,  his  mean- 
ing is  simplicity  and  clarity  itself.  He  is  trying  to  say 
that  Spirit  is  absolute,  a  law  unto  itself  from  beginning 
to  end  of  the  world-process  (if  it  has  a  beginning  and  an 
end).  The  whole  performance,  as  he  sees  it,  is  neither 
one-sidedly  psychic  nor  one-sidedly  physical,  but  is  one 
spiritual  act.  He  may  think  that  he  arrives  at  this  con- 
clusion by  a  subtle  dialectic,  but  he  really  jumps  to  it  by 
that  spiritual  recognition  we  call  analogy.  Jumping  from 
what  goes  on  in  his  own  self,  he  knows  of  no  elan  vital  to 
compare  with  the  elan  vital  of  spiritual  energy.  For, 
raise  either  psychic  energy  or  physical  energy  to  their 
highest  pitch  of  intensity,  and  you  get  Spirit ;  you  get  some- 
thing that,  either  way,  is  immaterial.  Whether  this  is 
what  the  absolutist  really  means,  to  the  student  of  litera- 
ture, who  has  his  business  among  the  high  intensities  of  art, 
this  is  what  he  ought  to  mean.     And  so  far  as  both  Human- 


PEAGMATISM  AND  HUMANISM         139 

ism  and  Vitalism  admit  this,  Humanism  and  Vitalism  are 
good  enough  for  him. 

And  the  absolutist  is  too  densely  literal  if  he  cannot  see 
that  the  pragmatist's  plural  principles  are  every  bit  as 
spiritual  as  his  one ;  with,  of  course,  his  private  resen^ation 
that,  so  far  as  they  are  spiritual,  they  are  one.  The  rest 
is  an  absurd  juggling  with  terms  of  arithmetic  which,  on 
either  theory,  do  not  apply. 

In  short,  the  unprejudiced  student  of  literature  cannot 
for  the  life  of  him  see  what  the  two  are  worrying  about,  and 
why  they  should  not  come  to  some  arrangement.  Pragma- 
tism, if  you  fancy  it,  for  the  affairs  of  life,  and  Monism  in 
its  proper  place. 

But  we  renounced  this  light-hearted  attitude  in  the  be- 
ginning when  we  decided  for  the  rigour  of  the  game.  We 
are  now  committed  to  the  metaphysical  adventure,  and  must 
see  it  through. 

There  is  one  more  consideration  which  may  bring  a 
strange  and  unexpected  food  to  the  appetite  for  unity. 

The  pragmatist  has  another  and  a  stronger  line  of  argu- 
ment, the  moral  line. 

He  says  the  blatant  Pantheism  of  the  monist  lands  him 
in  moral  catastrophe.  If  his  One,  his  Absolute,  his  God, 
is  all  things,  He  is  evil  as  well  as  good.  The  pragmatist 
cannot  face  the  awful  consequences  of  what  is  to  him  an 
immoral  God.  If  God's  All-mightiness  is  incompatible 
with  his  Goodness,  then  for  God's  sake  give  up  the  All- 
mightiness  and  let  us,  at  any  rate,  have  moral  peace.  Be- 
cause man  hates  evil  and  shrinks  from  pain,  there  must  he 
a  Dual  principle ;  there  must  be  Another,  the  scapegoat  of 
a  God  not  quite  almighty,  upon  whom  all  the  evil  in  the 
world  may  be  fastened.  Or  there  must  be  Others,  a  host 
of  Evil  Ones,  abominable  spirits  that  have  existed  in  their 
abomination,  if  not  from  all  eternity,  then  from  incon- 


140  A  DEFENCE  OF  IDEALISM 

ceivable  time.  If  you  ask  how  and  why  abominations 
should  spring  up  spontaneously  in  the  universe,  the  prag- 
matic humanist  cannot  enlighten  you.  He  can  only  point 
to  the  existence  of  evil  in  the  world  as  it  is  and  has  been 
since  man  knew  it  or  since  it  knew  man.  We  can  only 
ignore  it,  Mr.  William  James  says,  by  "  taking  a  moral 
holiday."  We  can  only  meet  it,  Mr.  Schiller  says,  by  this 
assumption  of  the  incompetent  God.  The  Infinite  and 
the  Absolute  are  up  against  man's  morality  and  his  dis- 
like of  suffering,  and  they  must  go.  God  is  only  infinite  in 
His  good  intentions,  which  presumably  pave  the  hell  of  the 
Evil  One.  God,  though  infinitely  well-meaning,  is  power- 
less to  prevent  this  Evil  One  or  those  abominable  spirits. 
But  better,  thrice  better,  that  he  should  be  powerless  than 
that  he  should  be  immoral ;  for  he  is  not  so  powerless  that 
he  cannot  struggle.  The  pragmatist  is  happy  in  that  he 
can  point  to  an  actual  state  of  struggle  in  the  cosmic  order. 
Given  a  Good  Principle,  struggling  with  an  Evil  One,  there 
is  always  a  chance  that  he  may  overcome  him  in  the  end ; 
that  evil  may  be  swallowed  up  in  good. 

Really,  this  is  not  an  unfair  statement  of  the  pragmatic 
humanist's  problem  and  his  heroic  position.  But,  lest  I 
should  be  suspected  of  loading  the  dice  in  favour  of  my 
monist,  I  will  let  Mr.  Schiller  state  it  in  his  own  words. 

(Mr.  Schiller  rejects  Dualism,  although  it  "  seemed  able 
to  preserve  the  all-important  distinction  between  good  and 
evil,  for  which  Monism  left  no  room."  Dualism  is  "  vir- 
tually disposed  of  with  rejection  of  the  ultimate  difference 
of  Matter  and  Spirit.") 

"  The  real  battle  has  to  be  fought  out  between  the  champions 
of  the  One  and  of  the  Many,  between  Monism  and  Pluralism. 
And,  contrary  to  the  opinions  of  most  previous  philosophers,  we 
are  inclined  to  hold  that  the  Many  is  a  far  more  important  prin- 
ciple than  the  One,  and  that  Pluralism,  consistently  inter- 
preted and  properly  explained,  is  the  only  possible  answer  to 
the  ultimate  question  of  ontology."  (^Riddles  of  the  Sphinx, 
pp.  350,  351.) 


PEAGMATISM  AND  HUMANISM         141 

"  The  finiteness  of  God  depends  on  the  very  attributes  that 
make  him  really  God,  on  His  personality,  on  His  being,  like  all 
real  beings,  an  individual  existence.  God  is  one  among  the 
Many,  their  supreme  ruler  and  aim,  and  not  the  One  under- 
lying the  Many.  The  latter  theory  makes  the  Many  inexplica- 
ble and  the  One  indifferent.  God,  therefore,  must  not  be  iden- 
tified with  Nature.  For  if  by  Nature  we  mean  the  All  of 
things,  then  Nature  is  the  possibility  of  the  interaction  of  the 
ultimate  existences,  and  of  these  God  is  one.  And  the  exist- 
ence of  these  ultimate  existences  explains  also  why  God  can  be 
finite;  He  is  limited  by  the  co-existence  of  other  individuals. 
And  from  His  relations  to  these  other  existences,  which  we  have 
called  spirits  (chap.  ix.  §  31)  arise  all  the  features  of  our  world 
which  were  so  insoluble  a  problem  to  Monism  —  its  Becoming, 
its  process,  and  its  Evil."    Ihid.  p.  361.) 

".  .  .  though  Matter,  being  nothing  in  itself,  cannot  be  the 
principle  of  Evil,  and  is  not  in  itself  evil,  it  is  yet  character- 
istic of  an  essentially  imperfect  order  of  things :  it  is,  as  it 
were,  the  outward  indication  and  visible  reflection  of  Evil. 
For  Evil  is,  like  all  things,  ultimately  psychical,  and  what  is 
evil  about  Matter  is  the  condition  of  the  spirits  which  require 
the  restraint  of  Matter  ...  if  evil,  i.e.,  inharmonious  spirits 
were  permitted  the  full  realization  of  their  conscious  powers, 
they  would  be  able  to  thwart  and  delay,  if  not  to  prevent  the 
attainment  of  the  divine  purpose  of  the  world  process  .  .  .  the 
lower  existences,  i.e.,  the  less  harmonized,  have  their  conscious- 
ness limited  and  repressed  by  material  organization,  in  order 
that  their  power  for  evil  may  be  practically  neutralized,  and 
that  in  the  impotence  of  their  stupidity  they  may  have  little 
influence  on  the  course  of  events."     (Ihid.  chap,  ix,  §  31,  p.  303.) 

Observe,  in  passing,  that,  though  Matter  is  "  character- 
istic of  an  essentially  imperfect  order  of  things,"  though  it 
is  *'  the  outward  indication  and  visible  reflection  of  Evil," 
it  is  the  weapon  in  the  hands  of  the  ferociously  good  God 
(apparently  the  only  weapon  that  he  has).  It  is  "  the 
check  upon  consciousness  " :  a  sort  of  poison  gas  which  the 
Good  God  sends  into  the  enemy's  lines,  to  smother  and 
stupefy  and  reduce  to  impotence  the  Evil  Ones. 

"  We  start  with  a  number  of  spiritual  beings  struggling 
against  and  opposing  the  Divine  Power,  which  may  overpower, 


142  A  DEFEI^CE  OF  IDEALISM 

but  cannot  destroy  them.  What  is  to  be  done?  To  leave  them 
in  the  full  possession  of  their  powers  and  intelligence  would  be 
to  give  them  the  power  to  do  evil,  to  reduce  the  spiritual  order 
to  a  chaotic  play  of  wild  antagonisms." 

(For,  after  all  the  fuss  the  humanist  has  kicked  up  about 
the  existence  of  Evil,  it  is  "  practically  neutralized  "  ! 
To  return  to  the  Evil  Ones: 

"  To  destroy  them  is  impossible.  But  it  is  possible  to  do  the 
next  best  thing,  viz.,  to  reduce  their  consciousness  to  the  verge 
of  non-existence.  In  such  a  state  of  torpor  it  would  be  pos- 
sible to  induce  them  to  give  an  all  but  unconscious  assent  to 
the  laws  of  the  cosmos,  and  gradually  to  accustom  them  to  the 
order  which  the  divine  wisdom  had  seen  to  be  the  best.  .  .  ." 
ilhid.  p.  362.) 

That  is  the  Humanist's  solution:  a  moral  God,  one 
against  many,  armed  with  lumps  of  Matter.  He  cannot 
destroy  his  enemies  (besides,  it  would  be  immoral  to  de- 
stroy them )  but  he  can  knock  them  senseless.  So,  you  see, 
he  hasn't  done  so  badly  after  all. 

"  For  to  impress  on  fools  and  beasts  even  a  dim  sense  of  the 
rationality  of  the  scheme  of  things,  is  a  task  more  difficult  by 
far  than  to  prevail  over  the  dissent  of  superhuman  intelli- 
gences." 

I  do  not  know  why  it  should  be  more  difficult,  except 
that  Mr.  Schiller  says  it  is,  and  he  ought  to  know  about  his 
own  God.  Anyhow,  these  are  the  triumphs  of  the  Good 
God.  The  rationality  of  the  cosmos  is  proved  by  a  knock- 
you-down  argument  which  prevails  with  fools  and  beasts! 

Well,  well,  the  problem  of  Evil  is  a  very  hard  one.  But 
this  particular  solution  overlooks  two  rather  glaring  facts : 
the  fact  that  stupidity  causes  most  of  the  moral  evil  that 
we  suffer  from;  so  that  by  deliberately  causing  stupidity 
the  good  God  becomes  a  cause  of  evil.  There  is  really  no 
sense  in  which  stupidity  can  be  made  out  to  be  a  good 
thing.     The  other  fact  is  the  behaviour  of  Matter,  which  is 


PKAGMATISM  AND  HUMANISM         143 

the  cause  of  most  of  the  physical  pain  we  suffer.  On  Mr. 
Schiller's  theory,  Matter  at  any  rate  seems  to  be  under  the 
control  of  the  Good  God  —  why  then,  if  he  is  all  that  the 
humanist  would  like  him  to  be,  does  he  allow  Matter  to 
get  so  intolerably  out  of  hand  ?  You  would  have  thought, 
that  (even  if  the  Evil  Ones  can  dispose  of  war  material, 
and  have  all  the  best  designs  for  armaments)  He  might 
have  put  down,  for  instance,  earthquakes.  An  earth- 
quake, after  all,  is  not  an  ultimate  spiritual  existence. 
But  no,  his  efficiency  is  limited  in  that  direction,  too. 

Oddly  enough,  it  is  this  well-meaning  but  incompetent 
God  of  Humanism  that  has  caught  the  fancy  of  Mr.  H.  G. 
Wells.  Mr.  Wells  has  given  to  the  conception  a  poetry  and 
a  dignity  which  is  not  its  own,  but  he  has  not  succeeded  in 
disguising  either  its  inherent  absurdity  or  the  moral  hys- 
teria to  which  it  owes  its  being. 

"  Mr.  Britling's  "  son  has  been  killed  in  the  Great  War, 
and  "  Mr.  Britling  " —  type  of  all  Britishers  and  honest 
men  —  realizes,  contrary  to  his  usual  way  of  thinking,  that 
there  is  a  God.  But  not  a  God  who  "  lets  these  things 
happen."  A  God,  amiable  and  inefficient,  who  can't,  for 
the  life  of  him,  help  them  happening. 

"  Letty,"  who  has  lost  her  "  Teddy,"  insists  that  he  must 
let  them  happen.     "  Or  why  do  they  happen  ?  " 

Mr.  Wells,  like  Mr.  Schiller,  tells  us  why. 

"'No/  said  Mr.  Britling;  'it  is  the  theologians  who  must 
answer  that.  They  have  been  extravagant  about  God.  They 
have  had  silly  absolute  ideas  —  that  he  is  all-powerful.  That 
he's  omni-everything.  But  the  common  sense  of  men  knows 
better.  Every  real  religious  thought  denies  it.  After  all,  the 
real  God  of  the  Christians  is  Christ,  not  God  Almighty;  a  poor 
mocked  and  wounded  God  nailed  on  a  cross  of  matter.  .  .  . 
Some  day  he  will  triumph.  .  .  .  But  it  is  not  fair  to  say  that 
he  causes  all  things  now.  It  is  not  fair  to  make  out  a  case 
against  him.  You  have  been  misled.  It  is  a  theologian's  folly. 
God  is  not  absolute;  God  is  finite.  ...  A  finite  God  who 
struggles  in  his  great  and  comprehensive  way  as  we  struggle  in 


144  A  DEFENCE  OF  IDEALISM 

our  weak  and  silly  way  —  Who  is  with  us  —  that  is  the 
essence  of  all  real  religion.  ...  I  agree  with  you  so  —  Why ! 
if  I  thought  there  was  an  omnipotent  God  who  looked  down  on 
battles  and  deaths  and  all  the  waste  and  horror  of  this  war  — 
able  to  prevent  these  things  —  doing  them  to  amuse  himself  — 
I  would  spit  in  his  empty  face.  .  .  .' "  (Mr.  Britling  Sees  It 
Through,  p.  397.) 

If  Mr.  Britling  had  left  it  "  at  that "  we  might  have 
been  sorry  for  him.  But  when  the  flood  of  hysteria  sub- 
sides, he  blunders  up  against  the  Open  Secret. 

" '  God  is  within  Nature  and  necessity.  Necessity  is  a  thing 
beyond  God  —  beyond  good  and  ill,  beyond  space  and  time,  a 
mystery,  everlastingly  impenetrable.  God  is  nearer  than  that. 
Necessity  is  the  outermost  thing,  but  God  is  the  innermost 
thing.  Closer  is  he  than  breathing  and  nearer  than  hands  and 
feet.  He  is  the  Other  Thing  than  this  world.  Greater  than 
Nature  or  Necessity,  for  he  is  a  spirit  and  they  are  blind,  but 
not  controlling  them.  .  .  .  Not  yet.  .  .  .' "     (Ihid.  loc.  cit.) 

"  Necessity  is  the  outermost  thing,  but  God  is  the  inner- 
most thing."  When  Mr.  Wells  comes  to  see  that  Necessity 
is  an  illusion,  and  that  space  and  time  and  our  good  and 
ill,  are  not  absolute  and  ultimate  realities,  and  that  the 
*'  innermost  thing  "  is  the  Real  Thing,  he  will  be  at  the  end 
of  his  Research  Magnificent.  Meanwhile,  he  has  shown 
his  wisdom  in  not  attempting  any  picture  of  the  actual 
procedure  of  the  good  and  inefficient  God  in  his  duel  with 
Evil. 

You  cannot  very  well  state  the  humanist's  position  in  any 
terms  that  will  not  make  manifest  the  absolutist's  advan- 
tage; but  I  think  Mr.  Schiller's  own  statement  shows  it, 
if  anything,  better  than  mine. 

The  monist's  reply  to  this  innocent  Manicheism  is  that 
it  is  the  pragmatic  humanist  and  not  he  who  is  deifying 
Evil,  since  he  has  endowed  it  with  ultimate  reality.  He 
will  suggest  that  an  Absolute  that  is  both  good  and  evil 
(since  the  pragmatist  will  have  it  so),  is  not  evil,  even  for 


PRAGMATISM  AND  HUMANISM         145 

one  fleeting  moment  of  his  infinite  existence ;  and  that,  for 
that  matter,  he  is  just  as  capable,  in  fact  ten  times  more 
capable,  of  bringing  good  out  of  evil  than  a  God,  desper- 
ately moral,  but  of  imperfect  power;  since  the  Absolute 
as  immanent  is  the  world-process,  and  as  transcendent  is 
also  everything  that  may  be  left  over  and  above  it ;  that,  if 
there  is  to  be  a  final  victory,  if  the  Evil  Principle,  or  Evil 
Principles,  are  ultimately  to  be  swallowed  up  in  the  Good, 
you  have  an  ultimate  unity;  that,  with  his  struggles  and 
his  victories  and  his  ultimates  and  finals,  the  humanist  is 
giving  a  metaphysical  reality  to  time  that  time  cannot  be 
made  to  bear ;  and  that,  since  there  is  to  be  a  final  swallow- 
ing, and  a  final  unity,  he  might  just  as  well  have  had  it  first 
as  last. 

Here,  I  think,  it  must  be  admitted,  the  absolutist  scores. 
The  pragmatist  has  betrayed  his  secret  appetite  for  unity. 
His  evil  must  be  swallowed  up  in  good.  If  the  pragmatist 
is  not  playing  with  words,  if  there  is  to  be  a  real  swallow- 
ing and  a  real  assimilation,  the  two  must  be  potentially 
one.  It  does  not  matter  whether  his  resulting  unity  be  a 
moral  unity,  or  a  metaphysical  unity;  unity  it  is,  and 
union  and  At-one-ment;  and  really  he  might  as  well  have 
had  it  first  as  last. 

The  absolutist  does  not  take  a  "  moral  holiday."  He 
does  not  deny,  and  he  does  not  ignore,  the  serious  and  be- 
wildering difficulty  of  the  problem  of  evil.  It  is  a  difficulty 
from  any  point  of  view.  But  I  cannot  see  that  it  bears 
with  a  more  awful  weight  on  the  theory  of  an  immanent 
and  transcendent  God  in  whose  reality  evil,  as  such,  has 
no  meaning  that  we  can  recognize,  than  on  these  two  alter- 
native theories  of  a  Dual  Principle  or  of  Plural  Principles. 
Humanism  either  exalts  Evil,  in  all  the  prestige  of  an  in- 
dependent metaphysical  reality,  or  it  poisons  life  at  its 
source  by  fixing  it  in  matter,  which  should  be,  of  all  things, 
innocent  if  life  is  to  be  kept  holy.  Or  if  it  does  not  fix  it 
there,  it  fixes  it  in  the  human  will,  which  is  even  worse, 


146  A  DEFENCE  OF  IDEALISM 

besides  not  being  altogether  true.  The  one  theory  that  it 
does  crush,  you  would  think,  should  be  the  old  theory  of  the 
absconding  deity,  God  the  Creator,  who  is  above  all  things, 
Blessed  for  ever ;  who  sits  outside  creation,  with  no  part  or 
lot  in  its  conflict  or  its  suffering.  And  yet  it  does  not  crush 
it  utterly.  Incompetent  as  he  is,  the  humanist  God,  the 
God  of  the  cosmic  arena,  has  a  certain  trait  in  common 
with  the  God  who  sits  above  it.  "  Eesistance,"  we  are 
told,  the  resistance  of  matter,  the  resistance  of  the  hard, 
recalcitrant  Evil  Ones,  is  "  necessary "  to  the  putting 
forth  of  his  power,  to  the  heroic  spectacle  of  his  prowess. 
Who  designed  this  accordance  of  evil  with  the  requirements 
of  the  gladiatorial  God  ?  Not  the  Evil  Ones,  you  may  be 
very  sure.  Suspicion  falls  upon  the  gladiator.  He  has 
engineered  the  existence  of  Evil  to  gratify  his  taste  for 
combat  and  for  personal  display. 

But  the  immanent  Spirit  of  the  absolutist  truly  bears 
his  part,  he  truly  labours  and  suffers,  in  so  far  as  he  is 
all  Nature  and  all  mankind.  He  has  literally  shirked 
nothing.  Von  Hartmann's  one  merit  as  a  thinker  was  that 
he  saw  that  God  the  Creator  is  the  intolerable  God.  If  he 
had  had  a  little  more  metaphysical  vision,  and  a  little  less 
moral  cowardice,  he  would  not  have  called  upon  man  to 
save  God,  to  deliver  the  Absolute,  by  bringing  the  world- 
process  as  quickly  as  possible  to  an  end.  He  would  have 
called  to  him  rather  to  save  God  by  saving  himself,  by  be- 
having as  much  like  a  spiritual  being  as  possible.  In  no 
other  way  can  he  hasten  the  end  of  the  world-process  —  the 
tendency  of  all  spirits  towards  self-determination,  after  the 
likeness  of  the  Absolute  Spirit  in  whom  they  live  and  move 
and  have  their  being. 

So  that  Pragmatism  and  Humanism,  in  spite  of  their 
closeness  to  life,  and  their  admirable  freedom  from  the 
bonds  of  system,  have  broken  out  into  a  dilemma  almost  as 
bad  as  any  inherent  in  the  systems.  In  the  very  act  of 
whitewashing  its  deity  so  as  to  bring  him  up  to  the  paro- 


PRAGMATISM  AND  HUMANISM         147 

chial  standard  of  purity,  Humanism  has  lapsed  into  the 
unity  it  repudiated.  Horn  one.  Horn  two,  which  is  a 
moral  point,  is  not  quite  so  obvious ;  but  it  will  become  so 
if  the  situation  is  examined.  The  Good  God,  being  good, 
is  opposed  to  the  evil  He  did  not  cause  but  cannot  help. 
He  must,  therefore,  struggle  against  it  that  his  goodness 
may  be  proved.  If  he  refuses  the  heroic  combat  he  is  not 
a  good  God.  If,  having  entered  the  arena,  he  does  not 
come  off  conqueror  he  is  not,  he  cannot  be,  so  very  good. 
If  he  conquers,  the  Evil  One  is  not  destroyed,  but  merged 
in  Good ;  and  you  have,  not  two  principles,  or  many  prin- 
ciples, but  one  principle.     And  this  is  moral  Monism. 

The  humanist,  you  see,  is  not  quite  so  naif  as  the 
Semitic  theologies  that  have  produced  him.  Uncompro- 
mising in  the  face  of  his  moral  dilemma,  he  boldly  throws 
over  God's  Almightiness  so  that  his  All-goodness  may  be 
kept  intact.  On  no  account  must  he  be  identified  with  the 
trivialities  and  absurdities  and  iniquities  of  existence.  He 
should  not,  for  instance,  be  held  responsible  for  the  pres- 
ence in  our  universe  of  "  so  many  millions  of  fleas." 

Mr.  Schiller  seems  to  suggest  that  it  is  Mr.  Bradley  who 
should  be  responsible  for  the  many  millions.  It  does  not 
occur  to  him  that  they  might  have  been  designed  for  the 
express  purpose  of  demonstrating  that  man  is  not  the  sole 
end  of  the  universe,  and  that  humanist  man  is  not  the 
measure  of  all  things,  but  that  the  humblest  organism  may 
have  its  point  of  view,  and  its  right  to  a  say  in  the  matter 
of  existence. 

Having  relieved  his  principle  of  its  worst  embarrass- 
ments, the  humanist  has  now  got  God  almost,  but  not  quite 
as  moral  as  himself.  But  he  has  not  avoided  All-in- All- 
ness ;  he  has  simply  conceived  it  in  the  form  of  human 
morality.  Human  morality,  evolved  by  processes  of  alter- 
nate conflict  and  readjustment  from  various  instincts  of 
desire  and  repugnance  adapted  to  the  social  and  physical 
conditions  of  the  inhabitants  of  this  planet,  this  precious 


148  A  DEFENCE  OF  IDEALISM 

morality  of  his  is  what  he  solemnly  refers  to  transcendent 
Eeality.  And  this,  mind  you,  after  jibbing  at  any  identi- 
fication of  deity  with  the  absurder  details  of  our  daily 
life. 

And  mark  the  dilemma  that  arises  from  an  honest  man's 
attempt  to  whitewash  God.  After  all,  he  can  only  save  his 
moral  whitewash  at  the  expense  of  his  Pluralism,  and  his 
Pluralism  at  the  expense  of  his  whitewash.  And,  even 
then,  he  has  not  saved  his  Good  God  entirely  from  the  sus- 
picion of  complicity  in  Evil.  The  Good  God  challenges, 
provokes,  demands  resistance.  He  is  no  more  All-good 
than  he  is  All-powerful. 

There  is  another  very  serious  objection  that  the  abso- 
lutist might  make.  The  pragmatist's  helpless  and  unhappy 
God  is  not  good  at  all,  any  more  than  he  is  all-powerful. 
For,  on  the  pragmatist's  theory,  the  good  is  the  useful ;  it 
is  what  pays.  The  good  God,  then,  is  the  useful  God,  the 
paying  God;  and  Evil  is  swallowed  up  in  usefulness,  in 
payment.     So  that  Evil,  also,  is  what  pays  in  the  long  run. 

It  would  seem,  after  all,  then,  that  unity,  in  some  form 
or  other,  is  a  necessity  of  thought.  If  the  appetite  for  it 
is  frustrated  in  one  place  it  will  break  out  in  another.  It 
is  implicit  in  the  very  dilemmas  of  the  systems  that  have 
repudiated  it. 

But,  to  be  just  to  Pragmatism  and  Humanism,  they  have 
deserved  well  of  philosophy  in  reminding  it  of  things  it  is 
apt  to  forget ;  little  things,  like  Will  and  action  and  moral 
conduct,  which  Idealism  really  renders  little  or  no  account 
of. 

And  I  do  not  think  either  pragmatists  or  humanists  claim 
to  have  established  a  metaphysic.  Concerned  as  they  are 
with  the  human  will  and  with  action,  and  with  moral  con- 
duct, they  aim  at  something  which  they  believe  devoutly 
to  be  nobler  and  better  and  more  useful  —  they  conceive 
themselves  to  be  much  more  profitably  engaged  in  laying 


PRAGMATISM  AND  HUMANISM         149 

the  ethical  foundations  of  the  Universe.  They  do  not 
worry  about  the  foundations  of  Ethics ;  they  worry  about 
the  ethical  behaviour  of  the  Universe.  Whatever  the  Uni- 
verse does  or  does  not  conform  to,  it  must  conform  to 
human  and  pragmatic  ideas  of  morality. 

But  the  Universe  is  nothing  if  not  ironic.  And  in  the 
fate  of  Pragmatism  and  Humanism  there  is  a  peculiar  and 
a  perfect  irony.  They  have  been  taken  at  their  word ;  and, 
as  they  have  insisted  on  putting  conduct  first,  and  Ethics 
first,  or  Ethics,  if  anything,  a  little  after  conduct,  and  on 
ignoring  everything  in  the  Universe  that  does  not  square 
with  conduct,  or  account  for  conduct,  or  presuppose  con- 
duct, that  is  not  related  to  conduct,  or  referable  in  some 
way  to  conduct,  they  are  left,  in  consequence  of  their  vast 
repudiations,  without  any  ethical  ground  for  Ethics;  and 
therefore  without  any  ethical  ground  for  conduct  at  all. 
"  Thought-relations  "  are  irrelevant  to  conduct,  therefore 
"  thought-relations  "  must  go.  Eelativity  is  fatal  to  ethical 
conduct,  therefore  relativity  must  go.  The  Infinite  and 
the  Absolute  are  indifferent  to  ethical  conduct,  therefore 
the  Infinite  and  the  Absolute  must  go.  Monism  will  not 
account  for  ethical  conduct.  Monism  is  even  incompatible 
with  ethical  conduct,  therefore  Monism  must  most  em- 
phatically go.  So  that,  though  Pragmatic  Humanism  does 
not  claim  to  have  established  a  metaphysic,  it  does  claim  to 
have  destroyed  one,  which  is  to  be  metaphysical  with  a 
vengeance. 

And  it  does  not  seem  to  have  occurred  to  either  Pragma- 
tism or  Humanism  that  a  dead  metaphysic  could  revenge 
itself  in  its  turn.  It  did  not  and  it  could  not  occur  to  them 
that  in  this  clean  sweep  of  non-moralities.  Morality  itself 
must  go.  The  pragmatist's  eyes  are  fixed  on  conduct  and 
the  useful,  the  paying  results  of  conduct ;  and  the  human- 
ist's eyes  are  fixed  on  the  origins  of  conduct  and  the  end  of 
conduct,  and  neither  have  paused  to  ask  themselves  the  one 
question  that  is  vital  and  crucial  for  Ethics:     Is  there 


150  A  DEFENCE  OF  IDEALISM 

anything  that  is  good  in  itself,  apart  from  its  results  or  its 
origin,  or  its  end  ?  The  logical  outcome  of  Pragmatism  is 
that  the  good  is  what  pays ;  the  logical  outcome  of  Human- 
ism, with  its  evolutionary  Ethics,  is  that  the  good  is  the 
pleasant  or  the  desirable  or  the  beneficial. 

With  all  their  air  of  brand-new  modernity,  neither 
Pragmatism  nor  Himianism  have  added  anything  to  the 
Utilitarianism  of  the  middle  nineteenth  century,  nor  to  the 
Hedonism  of  the  year  400  b.  c.  Pragmatism  wears  a 
Quaker's  hat,  and  Humanism  has  vine-leaves  in  its  hair. 
Their  quest  is  not  for  Ultimate  Reality,  but  for  steam- 
engines  and  motor  cars  and  synthetic  chemistry;  or  for 
Tango,  if  that  is  pleasant,  desirable,  and  beneficial. 

But  it  is  only  fair  to  add  that  their  dilemmas  are  of  the 
unconscious  kind,  and  that  they  have  made  no  specious 
promises.  They  say :  I  find  this  Dualism  or  this  Plural- 
ism, and  I  leave  it  at  that.  It  does  not  make  a  tidy  uni- 
verse, but  I  can't  help  it.  It's  not  my  job  to  tidy  up  the 
Universe.  And  I  prefer  things  left  like  that  with  their 
ends  hanging  all  loose;  it  is  more  picturesque,  more  like 
Nature  and  like  real  life. 


VI 
THE  NEW  KEALISM 


We  have  seen  that,  after  heroic  struggles,  neither  Pragma- 
tism nor  Hmnanism  succeeded  in  shaking  itself  wholly  free 
of  the  abhorred  unity.  In  their  exclusive  concern  with 
conduct  and  morality  both  betray  a  strong  subjective  bias 
fatal  to  the  pretensions  of  a  philosophy  that  is  out  against 
subjectivism  in  all  its  forms.  We  have  seen  that  their 
too  great  zeal  for  goodness  and  the  ultimate  triumph  of 
goodness  defeated  its  own  end,  and  left  them  with  a  uni- 
verse on  their  hands  in  which  Goodness  had  neither  meta- 
physical sanction  nor  logical  gi'ound,  and,  so  far  from 
being  a  reality,  is  not  even  that  which  to  every  pragmatist 
and  humanist  is  a  miserable  makeshift  for  reality  —  an 
idea. 

I  had  got  so  far  when  it  was  pointed  out  to  me  that  to 
deal  faithfully  with  those  philosophies  is  to  slay  the  slain, 
and  that  my  time  would  be  very  much  better  employed  in 
considering  the  New  Realism,  which  has  nothing  in  com- 
mon with  them  but  its  abhorrence  of  unity.  It  was  also 
pointed  out  to  me  that  the  claims  of  the  New  Realism  are 
so  well  founded  that  there  is  no  likelihood  or  even  possi- 
bility of  Monism  raising  its  head  again,  and  that  the  mys- 
terious Snark,  "  ultimate  reality,"  has  disappeared  from 
the  universe.  I  gathered  that,  this  time,  there  can  be  no 
more  temporizing,  no  more  fooling  about  with  rela- 
tivity; no  more  fencing  and  dodging,  and  no  more 
playing     fast     and     loose     \vith     the     law     of     contra- 

151 


152  A  DEFENCE  OF  IDEALISM 

diction;  no  more  sheltering  of  reality  behind  appear- 
ances; no  more  conjuring  with  the  unity  of  conscious- 
ness; in  short,  that  all  the  little  games  of  Monism  are 
played  out.  It  is  a  case  of  either  swallowing  the  New 
Realism,  or  being  swallowed,  with  no  possible  doubt  as  to 
the  actual  issue. 

There  is  nothing  for  it  but  to  approach  the  monster  with 
as  bold  a  front  as  is  possible  for  a  devout  monist  inwardly 
quivering  with  fear.  It  must  be  confessed  that  he  is  in 
some  danger.  For  the  New  Eealism  is  before  all  things  a 
mathematical  method;  and  it  cannot  be  said  that  every 
monist  is  as  strong  in  mathematics  as  by  the  nature  of  his 
case  he  ought  to  be.  Still,  he  will  do  himself  no  good  by 
ignoring  the  gravity  of  his  position.  He  has  got  to  look 
he  has  cleared  his  mind  of  Kant,  whether  he  spells  it  with 
a  small  c  or  a  big  K. 

Now  he  cannot  look  it  squarely  in  the  face  until  he  has 
stripped  himself  of  every  prejudice  that  clings  to  him, 
until  he  has  got  rid  of  the  traditions  he  has  been  born  and 
bred  in  (for  the  monist  is  usually  born,  not  made) ;  until 
he  has  cleared  his  mind  of  Kant  whether  he  spells  it  with  a 
small  c  or  a  big  K. 

He  must,  I  think,  acknowledge  that  his  real,  live,  and 
formidable  enemies  are,  not  the  Dualism  of  "  Messrs. 
Dewey  and  Schiller,"  nor  yet  the  Pluralism  of  Mr.  Wil- 
liam James,  but  the  Pluralism  of  Mr.  Bertrand  Russell, 
Mr.  G.  E.  Moore,  Mr.  Alexander,  and  the  new  realists  of 
the  United  States. 

At  the  same  time,  it  would  have  argued  a  most  unreason- 
able negligence  to  have  ignored  the  brilliant  and  powerful 
work  of  Mr.  James  and  Mr.  Schiller.  By  their  very 
brilliance  and  their  power,  and  the  grace  of  their  appeal  to 
the  thought  and  feeling  of  the  plain  man,  they  are  likely 
to  hold  their  own,  if  not  after  the  New  Realism  has  been 
forgotten,  at  any  rate  long  before  it  has  begun  to  be  re- 
membered by  the  plain  man.     The  chances  are  that  it  is 


THE  NEW  KEALISM  153 

neither  Pragmatism  nor  Humanism,  but  the  New  Eealism 
that  will  succeed  in  establishing  itself  as  the  dominant 
philosophy  of  the  twentieth  century.  Still,  they  pre- 
pared its  way  before  it ;  they  anticipated  it  to  some  extent 
in  their  criticism  of  abstract  intellectual  Idealism,  and  in 
their  insistence  on  those  irreducible  elements  of  will,  feel- 
ing and  action  which  abstract  Idealism  leaves  out  of  its 
account. 

And  the  New  Realism  has  not  been  grateful  to  the  two 
pioneers.  It  comes  triumphantly  and  relentlessly  into  its 
own,  and  you  may  say  its  first  act  of  power  is  to  give  both 
of  them  the  coup  de  grace  where  it  finds  them,  loitering 
contentedly  on  the  very  road  they  had  made  smooth  for  it. 

Well,  the  plain  man  is  not  going  to  think  the  worse  of 
Pragmatism  for  Mr.  Bertrand  Eussell's  attack  on  it,  even 
if  Pragmatism  is  not  hereafter  to  be  counted  among 
serious  philosophies,  and  if  Humanism  is  in  no  better 
case. 

To  what  does  the  New  Eealism  owe  its  deadly  force  ? 

Mainly,  I  think,  if  not  entirely,  to  its  method.  Not  to 
its  newness,  for  it  is  not  by  any  means  so  new  as  would 
appear  from  its  claim  to  have  revolutionized  Philosophy, 
much  as  Copernicus  revolutionized  astronomy,  by  taking 
the  sun  as  the  centre  of  the  solar  system  instead  of  the  earth. 
Indeed,  the  New  Eealism  has  gone  one  better  than  Coperni- 
cus. It  has  decentralized  Philosophy  altogether. 
'  And  it  has  done  this  by  applying  the  method  of  Mr. 
Bertrand  Eussell's  ''  atomistic  logic  "  to  the  universe  with- 
out and  to  the  universe  within ;  that  is  to  say,  to  the  sum 
total  of  experience. 

The  first  result  of  this  searching  and  implacable  analysis 
is  to  demonstrate  that  the  two  are  by  no  means  contermi- 
nous. On  the  contrary,  you  are  led,  step  by  step,  through 
a  series  of  unwary  admissions,  to  the  conclusion  that  there 
is  no  universe  within;   but  that  the  sum  total   of  the 


154  A  DEFENCE  OF  IDEALISM 

within  is,  in  a  vigorous  and  imdebatable  sense,  part  (and 
a  very  small  part  at  that)  of  the  universe  without;  while 
of  the  universe  without  there  is  no  sum  total,  but  an  infi- 
nite number  of  kinds  or  classes  of  existences  and  an  in- 
finite number  of  existences  within  each  class  or  kind.  The 
extreme  pluralistic  conclusion  follows  wherever  and  when- 
ever the  analytic  method  is  applied.  There  is  no  escaping 
it,  because,  in  the  last  resort,  it  rests  upon  a  limited  set  of 
incontrovertible  axioms  of  mathematical  logic.  There  is 
no  escaping  the  extreme  realistic  conclusion,  because  it  also 
rests  on  an  incontrovertible  law  of  pure  mathematics.  All 
mathematics  in  their  turn  flow  from  a  score  of  premisses 
of  Symbolic  or  Formal  Logic.  ^^ 

This  fact,  that  "  all  Mathematics  is  Symbolic  Logic," 
Mr.  Bertrand  Russell  declares  to  be  "  one  of  the  greatest 
discoveries  of  the  age  "  ^^  and  he  shows  that  it  is  impossible 
to  exaggerate  its  importance  to  Philosophy  and  its  influ- 
ence on  the  fate  of  Monism. 

"  The  Philosophy  of  Mathematics  has  been  hitherto  as  con- 
troversial, obscure  and  unprogressive  as  the  other  branches  of 
philosophy.  Although  it  was  generally  agreed  that  mathe- 
matics is  in  some  sense  true,  philosophers  disputed  as  to  what 
mathematical  propositions  really  meant:  although  something 
was  true  no  two  people  agreed  as  to  what  it  was  that  was  true, 
and  if  something  was  known,  no  one  knew  what  it  was  that 
was  known.  So  long,  however,  as  this  was  doubtful  it  could 
hardly  be  said  that  any  certain  and  exact  knowledge  was 
to  be  obtained  in  mathematics.  We  find,  accordingly,  that 
idealists  have  tended  more  and  more  to  regard  all  mathematics 
as  dealing  with  mere  appearances,  while  empiricists  have  held 
everything  mathematical  to  be  approximation  to  some  exact 
truth  about  which  they  had  nothing  to  tell  us."  (Principia 
Mathematica,  i,  p.  4.) 

The  strength  of  Idealism  has  hitherto  lain  in  the  poverty 
of  Formal  Logic,  the  impossibility  of  bringing  the  sacro- 
sanct deductions  of  mathematics  into  line  with  deductive 
logic  as  it  then  existed.     Philosophers,  when  they  looked 


THE  NEW  REALISM  155 

for  the  cause  of  this  mysterious  divorce  and  contradiction 
between  two  orders  of  truth  supposed  equally  incontro- 
vertible, so  far  from  suspecting  that  the  machinery  of 
formal  logic  might  be  at  fault,  were  apt  to  throw  the  entire 
blame  on  mathematics.  Mathematics  was  accused  of  rely- 
ing on  axioms  which  were  so  many  unproved  and  unprov- 
able hypotheses.  They  might  depend  on  an  a  priori 
intuition,  or  they  might  not ;  in  either  case  their  boasted 
logical  certainty  was  an  illusion.  What  was  much  worse, 
so  far  as  pure  mathematics  could  be  said  to  be  certain, 
they  had  no  valid  application  to  the  world  of  experience, 
the  world  of  space  and  time. 

All  Idealisms,  constructive  or  destructive,  are  based  on 
the  ultimate  inability  of  mathematics  to  defend  its  own 
position.  And  it  is  claimed  that  with  the  reform  of  Sym- 
bolic Logic,  the  perfecting  of  the  formal  machinery,  the 
bottom  is  knocked  out  of  Idealism. 

Eor  it  follows  that  if  all  mathematics  is  symbolic  logic, 
if  "  all  the  entities  that  occur  in  mathematics  can  be  de- 
fined in  terms  of  those  that  occur  in  the  above  twenty 
premisses,"  we  have  no  longer  got  two  orders  of  truth,  but 
one  order  of  truth.  Pure  mathematical  truth  will  not  be 
purer  than  any  other ;  it  will  not  constitute  a  different,  a 
higher,  holier  and  more  certain  kind  of  truth.  Any  un- 
mathematical  proposition  that  follows  faithfully  from  the 
same  laws  of  symbolic  logic  will  be  as  certainly  true,  as 
high  and  holy  as  mathematical  truth. 

And  lest  the  monist  should  take  heart  and  see  in  the 
Great  Discovery  a  confirmation  of  his  theory  that  all  logic, 
that  is  to  say,  all  thought,  all  truth,  and  therefore  all  ex- 
istence, is  one,  it  should  be  broken  to  him  at  once  that  he 
is  doomed  to  disappointment. 

This  unity  of  supreme  logical  law  is  not  a  unity  in 
which  he  can  hope  to  recognize  his  own.  It  is  a  purely 
formal  and  provisional  unity.  So  far  from  being  any  good 
to  him,  it  is  the  thin  end  of  the  wedge  by  which  his  uni- 


156  A  DEFENCE  OF  IDEALISM 

verse  is  prised  open,  torn  asunder  and  scattered  to  the  infi- 
nite.    This  logic  is  not  his  logic.     Instead  of  the  twelve 
comfortable  categories  which  he  could  wrap  round  his  uni- 
verse like  twelve  woolly  blankets,  with  the  one  vast  eider- 
down of  the  Absolute  on  top,  it  gives  him  a  plurality  of 
logical  indefinables,  as  hard  as  marbles,  which  hurt  him 
in   all  his  tender  places;   instead  of  the  rhythmic   and 
dynamic  throb  of  the  Triple  Dialectic,  with  its  rich,  rolling 
song  of  unity  in  difference,  it  gives  him  vibrations  as  multi- 
tudinous, as  discordant  and  irrelevant  as  the  noises  in  a 
Futurist  symphony. 
/      The  New  Eealism  is  before  all  things  a  method,  and  a 
/  mathematical  method.     For,  if  there  is  to  be  any  philos- 
/   ophy  —  any  discussion  as  to  the  nature  of  the  known,  of 
/    knowing  and  the  knower  —  at  all,  you  must  begin  some- 
/     where;  some  axioms,  or  at  any  rate  one  axiom,  must  be 
/      accepted  as  certain,  if  there  is  not  to  be  an  infinite  going 
/      back  upon  all  propositions  whatever.     And  the  only  cer- 
I       tain  axioms  are  the  axioms  of  pure  mathematics ;  that  is  to 
/       say,  of  Symbolic  Logic.     If  we  start  anywhere,  we  must 
I        start  with  these. 

/  Starting  with  these.  Pluralistic  Eealism  stands  or  falls 

/  by  mathematical  logic.  Its  four  vital  theories  are  based 
on  it :  its  theory  of  the  mathematical  infinite ;  its  theory  of 
relations ;  its  theory  of  concepts  or  universals ;  its  theory  of 
immediate  perception,  or  of  our  knowledge  of  the  ex- 
ternal world.  It  ought  not  to  matter  which  of  these  we 
take  first;  for  from  each  Pluralistic  Eealism  will  follow. 
Each  leads  us  safely  to  its  source  in  some  incontrovertible 
law  of  mathematical  logic.  But,  as  it  happens,  we  cannot 
consider  the  realistic  theory  of  perception  apart  from  the 
theory  of  the  Infinite  and  the  theory  of  relations,  on  both 
of  which  it  depends. 

Say,  then,  that  we  begin  with  immediate  experience,  the 
perception  of  an  object  in  space. 

(It   iS;   to   say   the   least   of   it,    extremely   debatable 


THE  NEW  EEALISM  15Y 

whether  the  perception  of  an  object  in  space  is  in  any  sense 
an  immediate  experience;  but  I  must  leave  this  crucial 
point  for  consideration  later  on.  I  want  to  state  the  posi- 
tion of  Pluralistic  Realism,  as  far  as  I  understand  it,  with 
the  greatest  possible  clearness  and  cogency,  and  for  pres- 
ent purposes  we  may  very  well  assume  that  the  perception 
of  an  object  in  space  is  an  immediate  experience.  We 
must  start  somewhere;  and  it  is  important  for  a  proper 
understanding  of  the  "  new  "  position  that  we  should  start 
with  an  experience  into  which  these  three  terms :  "  object," 
"space,"  and  "perception,"  enter.) 

Whatever  consciousness  may  be  supposed  to  have  done 
or  not  done  originally  with  its  sense  data,  there  comes  a 
point  when  those  data  are  "  referred "  to  an  object  per- 
ceived as  in  a  space  external  to  the  perceiver.  We  know 
what  Idealism  makes  of  this,  and  with  what  plausibility. 
It  makes  of  it  something  like  this :  — 

Let  us  grant  that  the  only  space  in  which  objects  are 
immediately  known  (otherwise  perceived),  is  a  "private 
space,"  ^^  which  the  perceiver  carries  about  with  him, 
and  that  the  shapes,  sizes,  lights  and  shades,  and  positions 
of  objects  in  this  space  are  not  absolute,  but  relative  to 
the  position  of  the  perceiver.  Let  us  grant  that  the  nature 
of  pure  or  mathematical  space  has  laws  of  its  own  and  a 
nature  of  its  o^vn  such  that  it  is  not  and  cannot  be  known 
in  immediate  perception.  On  these  two  points  Monists 
and  Pluralists  are,  I  believe,  agreed,  l^ow,  as  long  as 
it  could  be  supposed  that  pure  mathematical  space  was  as 
much  infected  by  illusion  and  relativity  as  any  "  private  " 
space  of  yours  or  mine,  and  that  it  was  therefore  a  perfect 
hotbed  of  contradictions  and  dilemmas  (what  applied  to 
space  applying  equally  to  time)  ;  then,  though  the  truth  of 
all  the  intermediate  laws  of  physics  rested  on  the  truth 
of  the  assumption  that  their  space  and  time  are  "  real  " 
and  contain  no  contradiction.  Idealism  was  still  within  its 
rights   in  denying   absolute   and   independent   reality  to 


158  A  DEFENCE  OF  IDEALISM 

space  and  time.  The  more  contradictions  and  dilemmas 
Idealism  could  find  in  relations,  above  all  in  the  relations 
of  space  and  time,  the  better  it  was  pleased.  For,  since 
there  is  nothing  known  that  is  not  known  as  standing  in 
relation  to  something  or  other  (except  the  Absolute),  it 
could  then  charge  the  whole  multiplicity  of  outer  and  inner 
experience  with  unreality  and  set  up  its  Absolute,  which 
is  One,  as  the  only  Eeal.  Physical  science  could  not  lift 
a  finger  to  prevent  this  annihilation  of  its  universe,  as 
long  as  the  pure  mathematical  laws,  on  which  it  rests, 
themselves  involved  the  very  worst  contradictions  and 
dilemmas.  Its  universe  of  space  and  time,  matter  and 
motion,  was  infected  at  its  source. 

The  most  destructive  of  those  dilemmas  turned  on  the 
nature  of  the  Infinite  and  its  relation  to  the  finite.  It 
was  argued  that  finite  events,  such  as  motion  or  any  other 
change,  simply  could  not  happen  because  of  the  infinity 
they  involved.  And  if  they  are  perceived  as  happening, 
if  they  are,  in  fact,  known  to  happen,  that  fact  goes  to 
prove  that  all  our  perceiving  and  all  our  knowledge  is  of 
appearances  and  not  of  realities,  and  that  the  only  real  ob- 
ject of  a  real  knowledge  is  the  Absolute,  the  motionless  and 
unchanging  One. 

This  relativity  on  which  Monism  battens  is  found,  not 
only  in  the  changes  and  motions  of  things,  but  in  things 
themselves.  Their  being  is  to  be  related.  Take  the 
simplest  of  static  relations,  the  relation  of  the  thing  and 
its  qualities.  It  seems  obvious  that,  if  there  are  qualities, 
they  must  be  qualities  of  something.  There  must  be  some- 
thing that  holds  them  together.  (At  least  so  it  seems  to 
the  Idealistic  Monist.)  The  thing  and  its  qualities  will 
then  stand  to  each  other  as  the  two  terms  of  a  relation. 
But  it  is  evident  (the  Monist  thinks)  that  the  relation 
must  depend  upon  what  the  thing  is,  and  what  qualities  it 
has,  that  is  to  say,  upon  the  nature  of  its  two  terms.  The 
relation  itself  will  be  related,  and  doubly  related. 


THE  NEW  REALISM  159 

We  have,  then,  instead  of  the  single  chaste  and  simple 
relation  that  we  started  with,  a  relation  of  dependence  hold- 
ing between  the  relation  itself  and  each  of  its  two  terms; 
that  is  to  say,  the  relation  that  we  thought  so  innocent  has 
itself  given  birth  to  two  terms  and  a  relation;  and  that 
relation,  being  likewise  dependent  on  the  nature  of  its 
terms,  will  be  likewise  related;  and  so  on  for  ever  and 
ever,  the  terms  and  the  relations  multiplying,  like  genera- 
tions, in  geometrical  proportion.  You  will  find  all  this 
maddening  behaviour  of  relations  described  in  Mr.  Brad- 
ley's Appearance  and  Reality,  pages  nineteen  to  thirty- 
four. 

We  started  with  a  thing  and  its  qualities,  and  the  rela- 
f'  tion  between  them,  and  we  have  got  an  infinite  regression. 
But,  by  the  very  fact  that  it  possesses  quality  and  that  the 
qualities  are  possessed  by  it,  the  thing  is  finite,  the  qualities 
are  finite,  and  the  relation  between  them  is  finite.  So 
that  we  have  again  the  contradiction  and  dilemma  of  a 
finite  set  of  terms  and  relations  involving  an  infinite  series 
of  terms  and  relations.  A  contradiction  and  dilemma 
which  can  only  be  avoided  by  taking  both  term  and  rela- 
tion, the  thing  and  its  qualities,  and  whatever  it  is  that 
makes  them  its  qualities,  as  appearances  and  not  as  reali- 
ties. 

Apply  the  same  argument  to  the  supreme  relations  of 
subject  and  object,  of  the  self  and  its  consciousness,  and 
the  entire  universe  of  the  without  and  the  within  is  re- 
vealed as  an  illusion  and  a  contradiction.  And  once  more 
our  flight  is  to  the  Absolute  as  the  only  Eeality. 

This  conclusion  is  revolting  to  the  intellectual  con- 
science of  men  of  science  and  to  the  common  sense  of  the 
plain  man,  however  much  it  may  delight  the  Monist  and 
the  mystic  to  be  thus  driven  into  the  bosom  of  his  God. 

We  have  seen  how  Vitalism  and  Pragmatism  have  tried 
to  escape  it  and  wherein  they  have  failed.  It  must,  I 
think,  be  owned  that  the  New  Eealism  is  more  successful. 


160  A  DEFENCE  OF  IDEALISM 

iN'either  Vitalism  nor  Pragmatism  had  a  logic  and  a 
method.  Vitalism  took  its  stand  on  immediate  perception 
and  the  facts  of  life.  It  observed  them,  as  the  biologist  or 
the  psychologist  observes  them ;  it  found  that  neither  what 
it  called  Realism  nor  what  it  called  Idealism  provided  or 
accounted  for  the  most  important  data  of  perception  and 
the  most  vital  of  the  facts  of  life.  But  it  had  no  logic 
whereby  to  test  the  apparent  contradictions  and  dilemmas 
of  immediate  perception ;  it  attempted  to  solve  them  un- 
critically and  by  rule  of  thumb,  trusting  to  the  plain  man's 
common  sense  to  find  no  fault  with  its  pronouncement: 
The  problem  of  Life  is  solved  by  living,  as  the  problem  of 
walking  solvitur  amhulando:  And  although  Mr.  Wil- 
liam James  has  dealt  very  faithfully  indeed  with  Abstract 
Idealism,  his  method  is,  on  the  whole,  so  akin  to  M.  Berg- 
son's  want  of  method  that  it  consists  mainly  in  an  open 
appeal  to  the  imagination  and  the  common  sense  which 
Vitalism  satisfies  and  Abstract  Idealism  does  not.  It 
is  hard  to  resist  Mr.  James  when  he  is.  quoting  Fech- 
ner,  almost  as  hard  as  it  is  to  resist  Fechner  himself. 
Fechner  appeals  with  fervour  and  without  shame  to  the 
desire  of  God  and  the  hope  of  immortality  that  still  stirs 
the  hearts  of  some  of  us  outside  the  Universities  of  Cam- 
bridge and  Harvard.  But  so  long  as  there  is  left  in  this 
hospitable  pluralistic  universe  a  single  stickler  for  the 
rigour  of  the  game,  one  solitary  professor  whose  heart 
remains  impervious  to  the  desire  of  God  and  the  hope  of 
immortality,  the  appeal  of  philosophies  which  have  no 
Logic  is  urged  in  vain. 

For  it  should  be  remembered  that  this  is  not  a  question 
of  who  thinks  closest  to  life,  Mr.  William  James  or  Mr. 
Bertrand  Eussell,  but  of  what  guarantee  we  have  that 
when  we  think  our  thinking  is  true.  We  cannot  dash  in 
and  snatch  at  a  highly  complex,  ready-made  reality  like 
Life  and  test  our  thinkings  by  their  correspondence  with 


THE  NEW  REALISM  161 

it,  even  if  we  knew  what  life  is  and  what  thought  is  (which 
we  are  very  far  from  knowing).  For  life,  anyhow,  is  a 
highly  specialized  and  subordinate  part  of  the  whole  con- 
text of  experience,  which  includes  many  more  things  than 
immediate  perception  can  lay  its  hands  on;  and,  as  for 
thought,  it  may  have  no  higher  or  more  comprehensive  place 
in  the  total  hierarchy  than  life ;  and  philosophy  cannot  test 
thougnt  by  its  correspondence  with  reality,  when  the  reality 
of  experience  is  the  question  before  us  to  be  solved. 

We  owe  it  to  Mr.  Bertrand  Eussell  that  Logic  has  been 
restored  to  its  proper  place  as  the  organ  of  philosophy. 
We  also  owe  it  to  him  that  Synthetic  Logic  has  been  suc- 
ceeded by  Analytic  Logic,  if  it  is  only  for  a  time.  The 
result  is  the  most  drastic  criticism  of  preceding  philos- 
ophies that  has  been  known  since  the  Critique  of  Pure 
Reason  smashed  the  systems  that  were  before  it.  If  the 
conclusions  of  Atomism  hold  good  all  along  the  line,  it 
means  the  complete  break-up,  not  only  of  Absolute  Ideal- 
ism, but  of  all  the  great  syntheses  that  ever  ruled  in  Phi- 
losophy —  with  some  revolts  and  revolutions  —  since  Phi- 
losophy began. 

The  synthetic  systems  were  based,  one  and  all,  on  criti- 
cism, more  or  less  drastic,  of  the  assumptions  of  immediate 
perception.  Where  the  axioms  of  pure  mathematics  were 
held  to  be  true  they  were  also  held  to  be  inapplicable  to  the 
objects  of  immediate  perception.  Every  attempt  to  recon- 
cile the  two  orders  of  assumption  led  to  contradictions  and 
dilemmas.  The  truth  of  the  mathematical  axioms  them- 
selves was  considered  to  be  open  to  doubt.  Though  the 
most  tremendous  consequences  flowed  from  them,  there 
were  no  axioms  more  ultimate  and  more  simple  from  which 
they  themselves  flowed.  The  validity  of  every  generaliza- 
tion and  every  deduction  of  physical  science  hung  on  them. 
They  hung  unsupported  in  a  world  of  their  own.  Mathe- 
matics had  thus  a  peculiar  and  mysterious  existence.     'So 


162  A  DEIENCE  OF  IDEALISM 

valid  conclusion  about  the  actual  physical  world  could  be 
reached  without  them ;  yet  the  objects  they  defined  had  no 
existence  in  the  actual  physical  world. 
That  position  remains  unaltered. 

"  As  a  branch  of  pure  mathematics  Geometry  is  strictly  de- 
ductive; indifferent  to  the  choice  of  its  premisses  and  to  the 
question  whether  there  exist  (in  the  strict  sense)  such  entities 
as  its  premisses  define."     (Principia  Mathematica,  p.  372.) 

"  Until  the  nineteenth  century  Geometry  meant  Euclidean 
Geometry,  i.e.,  a  certain  system  of  propositions  deduced  from 
premisses  which  were  supposed  to  describe  the  space  in  which 
we  live." 

Then  there  were  only  two  alternatives: 

"  Either  we  must  be  certain  of  the  truth  of  the  premisses  on 
their  own  account,  or  we  must  be  able  to  show  that  no  other 
set  of  premisses  could  give  results  consistent  with  experience." 

Kantian  Idealism  held  out  for  the  first  alternative. 
Empiricism  for  the  second. 

"  But  objections  were  raised  to  both.  Eor  the  Kantian  view 
it  was  necessary  to  maintain  that  all  the  axioms  are  self-evi- 
dent, a  view  which  honest  people  found  it  hard  to  extend  to  the 
axiom  of  parallels.  The  second  alternative  .  .  .  could  only  be 
tested  by  a  greater  mathematical  ability  than  falls  to  the  lot  of 
most  philosophers.  Accordingly  the  test  was  wanting  till  Lo- 
batschewsky  and  Bolyai  developed  their  non-Euclidean  system. 
It  was  then  proved  with  all  the  cogency  of  mathematical  demon- 
stration that  premisses  other  than  Euclid's  could  give  results 
empirically  indistinguishable,  within  the  limits  of  observation 
from  those  of  the  orthodox  system.  .  ,  .  Geometry  has  become 
(what  it  was  formerly  mistakenly  called)  a  branch  of  pure 
mathematics,  in  which  assertions  are  that  such  and  such  conse- 
quences, follow  from  such  and  such  premisses,  not  that  entities 
such  as  the  premisses  describe  really  exist.  That  is  to  say,  if 
Euclid's  axioms  be  called  A,  and  P  be  any  proposition  implied 
by  A,  then,  in  the  Geometry  which  preceded  Lobatschewsky, 
P  itself  would  be  asserted  since  A  was  asserted.  But  nowadays 
the  geometer  would  only  assert  that  A  implies  P,  leaving  A  and 


THE  NEW  REALISM  163 

P  themselves  doubtful.  And  he  would  have  other  sets  of 
axioms  A^,  A^,  .  .  .  implying  P^,  P^,  respectively,  and  the 
implications  would  belong  to  Geometry,  but  not  A,  or  P,  or 
any  of  the  other  actual  axioms  and  propositions.  Thus  Ge- 
ometry no  longer  throws  any  direct  light  on  the  nature  of  actual 
space.  .  .  .  Dimensions,  like  order  and  continuity,  are  defined 
in  purely  abstract  terms,  without  any  reference  to  actual  space." 
{Hid.  pp.  372-376.) 

Now  the  former  state  of  mathematics  suited  the  idealistic 
monist  admirably,  for  it  provided  all  the  contradictions 
and  dilemmas  that  he  wanted.  And  he  may  have  still 
drav^n  consolation  from  the  assurance  that  Geometry  is 
farther  than  ever  from  throwing  "  any  direct  light  on  the 
nature  of  actual  space."  But  he  has  now  to  learn  that ''  in- 
directly, the  increased  analysis  and  knowledge  of  possibili- 
ties resulting  from  modern  Geometry  has  thrown  immense 
light  upon  our  actual  space." 

IT  If  Pluralistic  Eealism  can  show,  in  spite  of  the  high 
irrelevance  of  its  mathematics,  that  there  are  definitions 
and  there  are  axioms  that  hold  good  of  the  universe  of 
space  and  time,  matter  and  motion ;  if  it  can  remove  the 
contradictions  and  dilemmas  which  have  been  held  to 
attach  to  the  conceptions  of  space  and  time,  matter  and 
motion ;  if  it  can  show  that  the  relations  of  finite  and  infi- 
nite contain  no  contradiction  or  dilemma,  it  can  then  go  on 
to  prove  the  continuity  of  space,  the  absolute  reality  of 
space  and  time,  matter  and  motion,  and  of  that  curious  col- 
lection of  qualities  we  call  an  object  in  space.  That  is  to 
say,  it  undertakes  to  show  that  the  existence  of  the  external 
world  is  independent  of  our  consciousness  and  of  any  con- 
sciousness whatsoever. 

We  shall  see  that  those  conclusions  do  not  exhaust  the 
;  possibilities  of  Pluralism.     It  claims  to  have  established 
'  the  external  and  independent  reality  of  such  things  as  con- 
cepts and  "  thought-relations,"  and  the  external  and  inde- 
pendent reality  of  sensations,   which,  even  philosophers 


164  A  DEFENCE  OF  IDEALISM 

hostile  to  Monism  have  for  long  enough  surrendered  to  the 
inner  world. 

It  makes  out  its  case,  first,  by  dealing  with  all  mathe- 
matical laws  and  all  mathematical  reasoning  as  laws  and 
reasoning  of  Symbolic  Logic ;  secondly,  by  giving  the  enti- 
ties defined  by  pure  mathematics  —  points,  lines  and 
planes  —  an  external  reality  peculiar  and  apart ;  thirdly, 
by  cutting  away  the  ground  from  under  the  monist's  most 
cherished  contradiction,  the  contradiction  involved  in  the 
very  idea  of  mathematical  space.  As  long  as  you  were 
compelled  to  think  of  pure  space  as  a  mysterious  con- 
tinuity made  up  of  discrete  elements  either  infinitely 
divisible,  or  indivisible  and  infinite  in  number,  the  idealist 
was  within  his  rights  in  denying  the  reality  of  space  and 
time,  and  of  matter  and  motion  and  everything  else  that 
depends  on  space  and  time. 

The  New  Eealism  admits,  I  think,  that  he  was  within 
his  rights.  Things  cannot  move,  that  is  to  say,  cannot 
change  their  positions,  in  an  unreal  space,  nor  real  events 
happen  in  an  unreal  time,  nor  real  things  be  tied  together 
by  unreal  relations,  nor  real  parts  be  contained  in  unreal 
wholes. 

So  the  first  thing  that  Mr.  Bertrand  Russell  shows  is  that 
the  laws  of  pure  mathematics  are  the  laws  of  Symbolic 
Logic.  They  have  no  superior  cogency,  but  they  have  all 
the  cogency  that  Formal  Logic  can  confer  on  them,  and 
there  arise  no  contradictions  or  dilemmas  in  them  any- 
where. 

This  could  not  be  shown  as  long  as  the  axioms  of  mathe- 
matics can  be  held  debatable;  and  they  can  be  held  de- 
batable as  long  as  finite  and  infinite  are  affected  by  each 
other's  behaviour;  and  finite  and  infinite  could  be  very 
seriously  affected  iDy  each  other's  behaviour  as  long  as  pure 
mathematics  dealt  with  quantity  and  magnitude.  But 
pure  mathematics  no  longer  deals  with  quantities  or  magni- 
tudes, but  with  pure  numbers.     Pure  numbers   are  re- 


THE  NEW  REALISM  165 

duced  to  "  classes "  or  terms,  the  simplest  elements  of 
purely  logical  formulae;  they  can  therefore  be  treated  like 
any  other  terms  in  purely  logical  propositions. 

We  have  seen  that  the  mutual  compromising  of  finite  by 
infinite  and  of  infinite  by  finite  is  the  root  of  the  contradic- 
tion by  which  Idealism  stands.  But  their  differences  have 
been  adjusted  for  ever,  we  are  told,  since,  some  time  in  the 
'eighties,  George  Cantor,  the  mathematician,  made  a  cer- 
tain interesting  discovery  as  to  the  nature  of  the  Infinite. 
He  found,  and  proved,  that  to  or  from  an  infinite  series  any 
number,  even  an  infinite  number,  can  be  added  or  taken 
away  without  either  increasing  or  diminishing  the  series. 
That  is  to  say,  finite  and  infinite  are  not  affected  by  each 
other's  vagaries.  They  neither  negate  nor  limit  nor  do 
they  define  each  other. 

Mr.  Bertrand  Eussell  contends  that  this  discovery  has 
made  secure  the  whole  ground  of  mathematical  philosophy, 
and  with  it  all  the  foundations  of  applied  mathematics,  and 
with  them  all  the  laws  of  physical  science  that  depend  on 
the  laws  of  space ;  and  with  these,  again,  the  ground  of  the 
reality  of  the  external  world  is  made  secure. 

For  the  reality  of  motion  depends  on  the  continuity  of 
space,  and  the  reality  of  change  on  the  continuity  of  time. 
Before  Cantor's  discovery  it  could  be  argued  that  change 
and  therefore  motion,  which  is  change  of  position,  were  rela- 
tive and  unreal ;  that  real  motion  could  not  take  place,  for 
the  simple  reason  that  there  was  no  place  for  it  to  take, 
and  that  no  real  event  could  happen  in  time  because  there 
never  was  a  quiet,  steady  instant  for  it  to  happen  in.  As 
long  as  space  and  time  were  held  to  be  discontinuous,  to 
consist  in  a  finite  or  infinite  number  of  separable  points  or 
instants,  these  dilemmas,  so  distressing  to  Realism,  fol- 
lowed. For  progress  of  bodies  and  succession  of  events 
will  always  be  from  one  point  to  the  next  beyond  it,  and 
from  one  instant  to  the  next  beyond.  Always,  between 
points,  the  body  said  to  be  occupying  space  will  be  out  of 


166  A  DEFENCE  OF  IDEALISM 

space,  and,  between  instants,  events  said  to  be  occurring  in 
time  will  be  out  of  time.  M.  Bergson  does  not  cause  these 
dilemmas  to  disappear  by  calling  space  the  net  that  intellect 
spreads  out  under  matter  to  catch  it  as  it  tumbles,  and  by 
using  time  to  stuff  the  gaps  in  space.  For  there  is  nothing 
to  stuff  time's  gaps  with,  except  duree  which  is  not  time. 
There  is  no  space  and  no  time  that  can  cover  the  awful,  the 
unthinkable  jump  from  next  to  next. 

Therefore,  in  Zeno's  problem,  Achilles  never  can  over- 
take the  tortoise ;  because,  however  fast  he  runs,  he  can  do 
no  more  than  jump  from  next  point  to  next  point;  and 
the  tortoise,  however  slow  he  is,  can  do  no  less.  ISTeither 
of  them  can  skip  a  point,  so  that  Achilles  can't  settle  it  by 
jumping  over  either  the  tortoise  or  the  ground  that  he  has 
travelled.  Swiftness  and  slowness  are  irrelevant  to  the 
problem.  Time,  which  is  all  important  to  it,  suffers  from 
the  same  discontinuity  as  space;  from  instant  to  instant 
is  on  all  fours  with  from  point  to  point. 

Into  this  dreadful  gulf  between  point  and  point,  instant 
and  instant,  the  modern  mathematician  shovels  in  —  the 
Infinite. 

Continuity,  for  the  modern  mathematician,  is  not  an 
affair  of  infinitesimals,  but  of  infinitely  divisibles.  More 
than  all,  it  is  an  affair  of  order  in  a  series.  From  Cantor's 
discovery  it  follows  that  there  never  is  a  next  point,  a  next 
instant,  a  next  number ;  there  never  is  any  nextness  at  all. 
The  next  point,  the  next  instant,  the  next  number,  are 
finites.  And  as  the  Infinite  is  neither  increased  nor  di- 
minished, nor  limited,  nor  in  any  way  affected  by  any  be- 
haviour of  the  finites,  it  follows  that,  start  at  any  finite 
point,  or  instant,  you  will,  between  it  and  the  next  point, 
the  next  instant,  there  will  be  an  infinite  number  of 
points  and  instants,  and  between  any  two  numbers  an  in- 
finite number  again,  and  so  on  to  infinity,  the  gaps  filling 
up  before  your  eyes. 

You  will  find  the  entire  proof  set  forth  in  the  chapters 


THE  NEW  KEALISM  167 

on  Infinity  and  Continuity  in  the  Principia  Mathematica. 
Meanwhile  Mr.  Eussell  simplifies  the  problem  by  an  illus- 
tration. 

".  .  .  Let  us  imagine  a  tiny  speck  of  light  moving  along  a 
scale.  What  do  we  mean  by  saying  that  the  motion  is  con- 
tinuous? ...  If  we  consider  any  two  positions  of  the  speck 
occupied  at  any  two  instants,  there  will  be  other  intermediate 
positions  occupied  at  intermediate  instants.  However  near  to- 
gether we  take  the  positions,  the  specks  will  not  jump  suddenly 
from  the  one  to  the  other,  but  will  pass  through  an  infinite 
number  of  other  positions  on  the  way.  Every  distance,  however 
small,  is  traversed  by  passing  through  all  the  infinite  series  of 
positions  between  the  two  ends  of  the  distance."  (Our  Knowl- 
edge of  the  External  World,  pp.  133-134.) 

It  is  obvious  that  this  feat  would  be  impossible  if  time 
could  not  be  treated  in  the  same  way. 

So  there  is  no  nextness  anywhere.  And  if  there  is  no 
nextness  there  is  continuity.  And  if  mathematical  space 
and  time  are  continuous,  then  all  spaces  and  all  times  are 
continuous ;  and  if  continuous  then  real.  This  conclusion, 
which  is  by  no  means  self-evident,  is  the  result  of  further 
logical  constructions  and  correlations.  What  holds  good 
of  actual  space  will  hold  good  of  matter  occupying  space. 
What  holds  good  of  actual  time  will  hold  good  of  change 
and  motion  occupying  time;  change  and  motion  will  be 
absolute  and  real,  and  unselfcontradictory,  in  the  sense 
that  there  is  no  state  of  change,  and  no  state  of  motion. 
And  since  all  material  things  are  continuous,  that  is  to  say 
extended,  extension,  and  with  it  the  primary  qualities  of 
matter,  will  be  absolute  and  real. 

There  were,  as  we  have  seen,  three  outstanding  objec- 
tions to  the  older  Eealisms :  the  alleged  hypothetical  char- 
acter of  the  axioms  of  pure  mathematics ;  the  supposed  fact 
that  sense-perceptions  are  illusory;  the  supposed  depend- 
ence of  a  relation  on  its  terms. 

We  have  seen  how  the  New  Eealism  deals  with  the  first. 


168  A  DEFENCE  OF  IDEALISM 

We  shall  see,  later  on,  in  another  context,  how  it  deals 
with  the  third.  Its  business,  at  the  point  where  we  are 
now,  is  with  sense  perception. 

When  it  comes  to  sense-perception  it  betrays  a  certain 
consciousness  of  difficulty.  The  appearances  of  an  object 
in  space  do  certainly  differ  according  to  the  point  of  view 
and  the  optic  apparatus  of  the  perceiver.  Its  size,  shape, 
colour,  and  relation  to  other  objects  in  space  vary  with  the 
position  and  distances  of  the  perceiver.  If  a  humorous 
creator  had  given  to  the  lens  of  the  eye  the  extravagant  con- 
vexity and  concavity  of  the  little  mirrors  placed  at  the 
doors  of  Pierce's  restaurants,  the  world  of  creatures  would 
appear  as  a  world  of  grotesques. 

But  suppose  that  the  New  Realism  accepts  as  the  stand- 
ard lens  the  lens  of  the  normal  human  eye,  appearances 
presented  to  the  normal  human  eye  will  not  rank  as  appear- 
ances, but  as  real  objects  normally  perceived,  and  all  varia- 
tions from  the  normal  will  be  attributed  to  flaws  in  the 
mechanism  of  perception. 

(This  question  of  the  standard  is  crucial  for  the  New 
Eealism.  It  raises  difficulties  which  I  will  not  dwell  upon 
at  present.) 

Still,  the  variations,  which  we  may  call  objective  varia- 
tions due  to  the  perceiver's  objective  changes  of  position, 
will  remain.  Also  the  fact  that  to  one  object  of  per- 
ception there  will  be  a  considerable,  not  to  say  an  infinite 
number  of  perceivers,  each  bringing  to  the  problem  an  in- 
dividual angle  or  point  of  view,  which  itself  will  change 
with  each  change  in  his  position.  So  that  the  New 
Eealism  has  to  assume  at  least  three  kinds  of  space  to  begin 
with,  and  as  many  more  kinds  as  may  be  necessary: 
Pure  space,  the  space  of  the  mathematician ;  private  space, 
the  space  which  every  individual  perceiver  carries  about 
with  him;  and  public  space  which  is  the  same  for  every- 
body, and  to  which  each  separate  private  space  has  to  be 


THE  NEW  REALISM  169 

added  and  adjusted  as  a  system  of  private  cubicles  is  ad- 
justed to  a  public  dormitory. 

All  these  spaces,  purged  from  the  uncleanness  of  contra- 
diction and  relativity,  are  real  and  outside  consciousness. 
Even  private  space  is  real  and  outside.  It  is,  indeed,  in 
its  own  mysterious  way,  not  perhaps  part  of  public  space, 
as  the  cubicle  is  part  of  the  dormitory,  but  one  of  the 
infinite,  sliding,  interpenetrating  planes  of  the  pluralistic 
Real.  On  this  system  private  spaces  may  be  imagined  as 
being  like  so  many  transverse,  intersecting  beams  subsisting 
in  public  space,  cleaving  their  way  through  it  and  through 
each  other  (as  rays  of  light  pierce  their  unique  and  un- 
troubled paths  through  so  many  sheets  of  thin  glass),  and 
constructing  with  public  space  a  system  of  most  indu- 
bitable outsideness. 

I  must  leave  it  to  Mr.  Bertrand  Russell  to  describe  the 
manner  of  their  adjustment. 

"  If  two  men  are  sitting  in  a  room,  two  somewhat  similar 
worlds  are  perceived  by  them;  if  a  third  man  enters  and  sits 
between  them,  a  third  world,  intermediate  between  the  two  pre- 
vious worlds,  begins  to  be  perceived.  .  .  .  The  system  consist- 
ing of  all  views  of  the  universe,  perceived  and  unperceived,  I 
shall  call  the  system  of  '  perspectives ' ;  I  shall  confine  the  ex- 
pression '  private  worlds '  to  such  views  of  the  universe  as  are 
actually  perceived.  Thus  a  '  private  world  '  is  a  perceived  '  per- 
spective ' ;  but  there  may  be  any  number  of  unperceived  per- 
spectives. 

"  Two  men  are  sometimes  found  to  perceive  very  similar 
perspectives,  so  similar  that  they  can  use  the  same  words  to 
describe  them.  ...  In  case  the  similarity  is  very  great,  we  say 
the  points  of  view  of  the  two  perspectives  are  near  together  in 
space;  but  this  space  in  which  they  are  near  together  is  totally 
different  from  the  space  inside  the  two  perspectives.  It  is  a 
relation  between  the  two  perspectives,  and  is  not  in  either  of 
them ;  no  one  can  perceive  it,  and  if  it  is  to  be  known  it  can  be 
only  by  inference.  Between  two  perceived  perspectives  which 
are  similar,  we  can  imagine  a  whole  series  of  other  perspec- 
tives, some  at  least  unperceived,  and  such  that  between  any  two, 
however  similar,  there  are  others  still  more  similar.    In  this 


170  A  DEFENCE  OF  IDEALISM 

way  the  space  which  consists  of  relations  between  perspectives 
can  be  rendered  continuous,  and  (if  we  choose)  three-dimen- 
sional. .  .  .  There  are  as  many  private  spaces  as  there  are  per- 
spectives; there  are  therefore  at  least  as  many  as  there  are 
percipients.  .  .  .  But  there  is  only  one  perspective  space,  whose 
elements  are  single  perspectives,  each  with  its  own  private 
space.  .  .  . 

"  These  private  spaces  will  each  count  as  one  point,  or  at  any 
rate  as  one  element,  in  perspective  space.  They  are  ordered  by 
means  of  their  similarities.  Suppose,  for  example,  that  we 
start  from  one  which  contains  the  appearance  of  a  circular 
disc,  such  as  would  be  called  a  penny,  and  suppose  this  appear- 
ance, in  the  perspective  in  question,  is  circular,  not  elliptic. 
We  can  then  form  a  whole  series  of  perspectives  containing  a 
graduated  series  of  circular  appearances  of  various  sizes :  for 
this  purpose  we  have  only  to  move  (as  we  say)  towards  the 
penny  or  away  from  it.  The  perspectives  in  which  the  penny 
looks  circular  will  be  said  to  lie  on  a  straight  line  in  perspective 
space,  and  their  order  on  this  line  will  be  that  of  the  sizes  of 
the  circular  aspects.  .  .  . 

"  In  order  to  explain  the  correlation  of  private  spaces  with 
perspective  space,  we  have  first  to  explain  what  is  meant  by  '  the 
place  (in  perspective  space)  where  a  thing  is.  .  .  .'  We  can 
form  another  straight  line  of  perspectives  in  which  the  penny 
is  seen  end  on  and  looks  like  a  straight  line  of  a  certain  thick- 
ness. These  two  lines  will  meet  in  a  certain  place  in  perspec- 
tive, i.e.,  in  a  certain  perspective,  which  may  be  defined  as  *  the 
place  (in  perspective  space)  where  the  penny  is.' "... 

"  Having  now  defined  the  perspective  which  is  the  place  where 
a  given  thing  is,  we  can  understand  what  is  meant  by  saying 
that  the  perspectives  in  which  a  thing  looks  large  are  nearer  to 
the  thing  than  those  in  which  it  looks  small :  they  are,  in  fact, 
nearer  to  the  perspective  which  is  the  place  where  the  thing 
is. 

"  We  can  now  also  explain  the  correlation  between  a  private 
space  and  parts  of  perspective  space.  If  there  is  an  aspect  of  a 
given  thing  in  a  certain  private  space,  then  we  correlate  the 
place  where  this  aspect  is  in  the  private  space  with  the  place 
where  the  thing  is  in  perspective  space."  (Our  Knowledge  of 
the  External  World,  pp.  87-92.) 

We  are  meant  to  see  at  once  that  such  a  space  bequeaths 
its  own  reality  and  peculiar  outsideness  to  the  things  that 


THE  NEW  REALISM  171 

occupy  it.  Given  that  the  adjustment  of  private  to  public 
space  is  an  outside  affair  it  is  possible  for  ISTew  Eealism  to 
proclaim  boldly  the  outsideness  and  publicity  of  sense- 
data.  There  is  no  sensation  so  elementary  and  so  imme- 
diate that  it  cannot  rank  as  perception  of  an  outside  real 
thing.  Only  from  the  private  point  of  view  of  the  per- 
ceiver  can  it  be  regarded  as  a  private  object  enshrined  in 
private  space.  Sensations:  red,  hot,  loud,  rough,  hard, 
heavy,  are  not  my  internal  and  private  response  to  an  ex- 
ternal nerve  stimulus,  nor  are  they  yours ;  they  are  planted 
out  in  the  object;  or  rather,  they  subsist  in  the  object  by 
its  and  their  own  right.     They  are  objects. 

It  follows  that  for  Eealism,  as  for  Idealism,  there  will 
be  no  difference  between  the  so-called  primary  and  sec- 
ondary qualities.  If  position,  extension,  size,  shape, 
weight  and  impenetrability  are  real,  we  have  no  reason 
for  supposing  that  the  secondary  qualities  of  matter: 
colour,  and  sound  and  taste  and  smell  are  not  real  too. 

This  point  is  too  important  to  be  passed  over  with  a 
summary  reference. 

Again  it  is  a  question  of  logical  construction  and  correla- 
tion, and  the  inferences  we  make  therefrom.  Such  sense- 
data,  whatever  else  they  may  be,  are  to  be  classed  among 
what  Mr.  Bertrand  Eussell  calls  "  hard  "  facts.  They  are 
given,  not  inferred;  they  are  irreducible  to  anything 
simpler  than  themselves.  We  infer  that  they  have  an  ob- 
jective or  "  independent "  reality  from  the  fact  that  they 
enter  obediently  into  the  context  of  objective  or  "  inde- 
pendent "  realities ;  they  can  be  correlated  with  them  so 
as  to  form  part  of  the  same  logical  construction ;  they  show 
themselves  as  belonging  not  only  to  the  same  universe,  but 
to  the  same  order  of  reality  within  the  universe.  For  the 
thorough-paced  realist  and  thorough-paced  idealist  alike 
the  distinction  between  the  illusions  and  realities  of  sense 
is  irrelevant.  They  are  distinguished  only  by  their  re- 
spective contexts. 


172  A  DEFENCE  OF  IDEALISM 

But  it  is  a  distinction  which  makes  all  the  difference 
between  Eealism  and  thorough-paced  Idealism. 

Thus  Mr.  Bertrand  Eussell  in  Our  Knowledge  of  the 
External  World:  — 

"  The  first  thing  to  realize  is  that  there  are  no  such  things  as 
'  illusions  of  sense.'  Objects  of  sense,  even  when  they  occur 
in  dreams,  are  the  most  indubitably  real  objects  known  to  us. 
What,  then,  makes  us  call  them  unreal  in  dreams?  Merely  the 
unusual  nature  of  their  connection  with  other  objects  of  sense. 
I  dream  that  I  am  in  America,  but  I  wake  up  and  find  myself 
in  England  without  those  intervening  days  on  the  Atlantic 
which,  alas !  are  inseparably  connected  with  a  '  real '  visit  to 
America.  Objects  of  sense  are  called  '  real '  when  they  have 
the  kind  of  connection  with  other  objects  of  sense  which  ex- 
perience has  led  us  to  regard  as  normal ;  when  they  fail  in  this, 
they  are  called  illusions.  But  what  is  illusory  is  only  the  infer- 
ences to  which  they  give  rise;  in  themselves,  they  are  every  bit 
as  real  as  the  objects  of  waking  life."     (Pp.  85-86.) 

Thus  Mr.  Edwin  Holt  in  The  Place  of  Illusory  Expe- 
rience in  a  Realistic  Worlds  taking  up  the  idealistic  chal- 
lenge :  — 

"  Not  the  illusory  or  hallucinatory  image  as  such,  it  was 
rightly  said  by  our  opponent,  but  such  an  image  when  it  asserts 
itself  to  he,  or  when  the  realist  asserts  it  to  he  a  real  object, 
is  the  crux  for  realism."     (The  New  Eealism,  p.  356.) 

"  Now  the  secondary  qualities  present  interrelations,  both 
fixed  and  intelligible,  so  that  those  persons  who  seriously  study 
them  begin  to  see  that  they  form  a  system  like  the  systems  dis- 
covered in  mathematics;  and  this  fact  alone,  as  some  one  has 
said,  already  sets  them  off  from  the  purely  '  subjective,'  indi- 
vidual, and  incalculable."     (Ihid.  p.  331.) 

Mr.  Holt's  argument  is  too  closely  and  elaborately  knit 
to  bear  quotation  of  any  single  passage.  This  is  the  gist 
of  it:  Take  a  whole  class  of  so-called  sense-illusions 
(errors  of  space),  the  diminution,  duplication,  and  dis- 
tortion of  an  object.  A  suitable  apparatus  can  produce 
mechanically  and  objectively  the  perfect  counterpart  of 


THE  NEW  KEALISM  173 

these  effects.  There  is  a  certain  mechanical  focussing  of 
the  eyes  by  which,  when  our  eyes  are  shut,  near  things  can 
be  made  to  seem  nearer  and  smaller.  There  is  a  certain 
mechanical  focussing  by  which  a  machine  for  manu- 
facturing shoe-lasts  copies  its  modeh  "  The  machine  at 
work  has  quite  the  air  of  seeing  its  model."  So  much  so 
that  the  nearer  the  centre  of  the  last  is  brought  to  the  cut- 
ting edge  of  the  machine,  the  smaller  the  model  that  the 
machine  turns  out.  Again,  "  The  stereoscopic  camera 
habitually  sees  double,"  as  human  eyes  will  if  their  several 
perspectives  are  divided.  A  roubly  cut  lens  distorts  as 
badly  as  an  astigmatic  eye. 

And  the  realist  argiies  thus:  As  in  these  cases  there 
isn't  any  question  of  the  self-subsistent  reality  either  of 
the  single,  undiminished,  undistorted  object,  or  of  its 
doubling,  reduction  and  distortion,  so  there  should  be  no 
question  in  the  case  of  the  human  apparatus  which  is 
equally  mechanical.     Both  affairs  are  of  the  same  order. 

As  for  the  so-called  subjective  hallucinations,  for  in- 
stance, of  dreams,  they  are  precisely  on  the  same  footing 
as  "  objective  "  sensations. 

"  The  nervous  system,  even  when  unstimulated  from  without, 
is  able  to  generate  within  itself  nerve-currents  of  those  fre- 
quencies whose  density  factor  is  the  same  as  in  ordinary 
peripheral  stimulation."     (Ibid.  p.  352.) 

And  Mr.  Alexander  is  no  less  explicit.  Eor  him  sense- 
data  are  on  precisely  the  same  footing  as  an  "  object  of 
thought,"  and  equally  independent  of  the  mind  that  thinks 
or  senses. 

"  For  us,  both  the  sensum  and  the  so-called  object  of  thought 
are  equally  objects,  non-psychical;  they  are  equally  objects 
meant,  though  they  are  not  equally  important. 

"  Doubtless  it  is  difficult  enough,  without  natural  and  philo- 
sophical prepossessions,  to  treat  the  sensum  as  an  object  in- 
dependent of  the  mind,  for  which  the  mind  with  its  sense  organ, 
through  its  act  of  sensing,  is  the  mere  vehicle  of  reception. 


174  A  DEFENCE  OF  IDEALISM 

Partly  this  arises  from  our  theoretical  ignorance  of  what  exactly 
in  the  object  the  sensum  is  as  compared  with  the  percept.  To 
call  the  sensum  blue,  as  I  have  done,  using  a  Leibnizian  meta- 
phor, a  fulguration  of  the  quality  blueness  is  admittedly  but  a 
metaphor.  And  I  am  not  yet  prepared  to  supply  the  defect  in 
theory.  The  sensum  is  so  fragmentary  and  elementary.  But 
at  least  we  can  say  that,  whatever  it  may  be,  it  is  that  which 
exists  in  the  thing  at  the  moment  and  place  to  which  it  is  re- 
ferred, and  that  it  is  equally  and  identically  apprehensible  by 
me  and  another  person  who  should  put  himself  into  the  same 
situation  of  place  and  time  as  I,  and  who  is  supposed  for  sim- 
plicity to  be  equally  normal  with  me,  and  to  be  suffering  from 
no  special  subjective  condition  different  from  mine  which 
might  differently  affect  his  susceptibility  to  the  sensory  object." 
(The  Basis  of  Realism,  pp.  16,  17.) 

Again : 

"  I  see  the  table  in  different  perspective  according  to  my 
position.  But  this  does  not  prove  the  visual  object  psychical  — 
a  mere  content,  but  only  that  the  object  looks  different  from 
different  angles  .  .  .  the  appearances  are  real  characters  of  the 
thing.  And  so  when  the  stick  is  seen  bent  in  water,  its  visual 
character  is  bent  because  of  the  refraction  of  the  light;  the 
illuminated  outline  is  bent.  But  of  course  the  touched  stick 
is  not  bent. 

"  These  facts  .  .  .  point  to  the  superior  value  of  touch-ex- 
perience and  the  greater  importance  of  primary  qualities,  as  in 
the  first  place  apprehended  by  touch,  over  the  secondary  ones 
.  .  .  the  primary  qualities  are  in  precisely  the  same  position 
with  regard  to  our  minds  as  the  secondary  ones.  Either  both 
of  them  are  mental  or  neither."     (Ihid.  pp.  17,  18.) 

The  plain  man  ought  to  rejoice  at  this  rehabilitation  of 
the  world  he  takes  for  granted ;  the  irreducible  real  world 
outside  consciousness,  resonant  as  a  drum,  hard  as  marble, 
bearing  all  the  heraldry  of  its  colours  in  its  own  right; 
the  world  that  Dr.  Johnson  believed  in;  the  world  that 
Reid  and  Wolf  —  the  Wolf  who  sent  Kant  into  a  dogmatic 
slumber  —  took  for  granted  without  any  aid  from  analytic 
logic. 

Consider  what  has  happened.     This  world  was  badly 


THE  NEW  KEALISM  175 

shaken  when  Berkeley  melted  down  the  primary  objective 
qualities  of  matter  into  secondary  subjective  qualities,  and 
declared  their  esse  to  be  percipi,  when  Hume  reduced 
causation  to  fortuitous  sequences  of  sensation,  and  Mill 
defined  the  result  as  "  a  permanent  possibility  of  sensa- 
tion." And  when  Objective  Idealism  proved  that  con- 
sciousness is  considerably  more  than  a  stream  of  sensa- 
tions, when  it  raised  up  the  world  again  out  of  the  flux 
and  stuck  the  broken  bits  of  it  together  with  "  thought- 
relations,"  its  indubitable  "  outside "  reality  was  still 
"  inside "  universal  consciousness.  And  it  is  this  uni- 
versality of  consciousness  that  the  New  Realism  has  laid 
its  hands  on. 

So  far  Idealism  and  Realism  can  get  along  fairly  com- 
fortably together:  they  can,  at  any  rate,  both  agree  that 
all  the  qualities  of  matter  are  in  the  same  boat :  there  is  no 
difference  on  either  theory  between  primary  and  secondary 
qualities.  It  is  over  the  "  thought-relations "  that  the 
decisive  battle  is  to  be  fought. 

The  New  Realism  abolishes  the  entire  system  of  thought- 
'  relations  which  Idealism  has  built  up.  It  repudiates  the 
idealist's  theory  of  "  internal  "  relations,  relations  snugly, 
yet  inscrutably  housed  in  their  "  terms."  For  Realism 
there  are  terms  and  there  are  relations.  But,  though  rela- 
tions are  concepts,  they  are  not  "  the  work  of  thought." 
And  in  no  case  is  a  relation  dependent  on  its  terms,  or 
grounded  mysteriously  in  their  secret  inner  nature. 
Every  relation  is  an  outside  and  self-subsistent  reality,  in- 
dependent both  of  the  relater  and  the  related.  There  is, 
properly  speaking,  no  relater.  A  relation  is  a  thing  devoid 
of  secrecy  or  mystery,  plain  as  a  pike-staff  or  the  nose  on 
your  face,  and  offering  not  the  smallest  foothold  to  Ideal- 
istic Monism.  Useless  to  enquire  how  a  relation  and  its 
terms  come  together.  They  are  together,  for  shorter  or 
longer  periods ;  that  is  enough :  that  is  the  beginning  and 
the  end  of  —  the  relation. 


176  A  DEFENCE  OF  IDEALISM 

And,  as  sense-data  —  the  greenish-gold,  the  loud,  the 
cold,  the  smooth,  the  heavy,  the  acrid-smelling,  the  bitter- 
tasting,  all  the  secondary  qualities  that  I  sense,  say,  in  a 
brass  trombone  —  are  outside  and  self-subsistent  objects  of 
sensation;  and  as  percepts,  such  as  the  brass  trombone 
itself,  localized,  for  me,  in  close  and  intimate  relation  to 
my  sense  organs  as  I  play  it,  and  in  more  or  less  distant 
relation  to  the  concert  hall  I  play  it  in,  to  the  other  instru- 
ments in  the  orchestra,  and  the  other  things  in  the  hall,  as 
the  brass  trombone,  the  percept,  is  the  outside  and  self- 
subsistent  object  of  perception,  so  the  concepts,  brass  trom- 
bone, greenish  goldenness,  loudness,  coldness,  smoothness, 
heaviness,  acridity  and  bitterness,  are  outside  and  self-sub- 
sistent objects  of  conception.  But  they  are  no  more  "  in  " 
the  object  of  sense-perception  than  they  are  "  in  "  or  "  of  " 
the  perceiving  consciousness.  They  w^ould  have  given  con- 
siderable trouble,  and  raised  the  most  disconcerting  di- 
lemmas if  they  had  been ;  so  they,  too,  are  planted  out ; 
not  in  space,  not  in  time ;  but  in  a  world  of  their  own ;  the 
world  of  the  changeless  and  eternal  Ideas.  If  there  be 
any  world  of  the  Absolute  it  is  theirs  and  theirs  alone. 

Here,  after  twenty-three  centuries,  Platonic  Idealistic 
Eealism  has  come  again  into  its  own. 

There  must  be  no  misunderstanding  about  the  position 
of  ideals,  concepts,  or  "  universals  "  in  the  New  Realistic 
scheme. 

"  No  sentence  can  be  made  up  without  at  least  one  word 
which  denotes  a  universal.  The  nearest  approach  would  be 
some  such  statement  as  '  I  like  this.'  But  even  here  the  word 
*  like '  denotes  a  universal,  for  I  may  like  other  things  and 
other  people  may  like  things.  Thus  all  truths  involve  univer- 
sals, and  all  knowledge  of  truths  involves  acquaintance  with 
universals." 

The  universal  cannot  be  a  so-called  "  abstract "  idea ; 
an  idea  seated  firmly  in  particulars  and  picked  out  of 
them  by  the  mind.     Take,  for  example,  the  idea  of  white- 


THE  NEW  KEALISM  177 

ness  or  the  idea  of  the  triangle  that  Bishop  Berkeley  argued 
about,  the  triangle  which  must  be  "  neither  oblique,  nor 
rectangle,  neither  equilateral,  equicrural,  nor  scalenon,  but 
all  and  none  of  these  at  once,"  an  unqualified  triangle,  a 
triangle  tout  pur. 

"  A  difficulty  emerges  as  soon  as  we  ask  ourselves  how  we 
know  that  a  thing  is  white  or  a  triangle.  If  we  wish  to  avoid  the 
universals  whiteness  and  triangularity,  we  shall  choose  some 
particular  patch  of  white  or  some  particular  triangle,  and  say 
that  anything  is  white  or  a  triangle  if  it  has  the  right  sort  of 
resemblance  to  our  chosen  particular."  (Bertrand  Russell, 
The  Problems  of  Philosophy,  pp.  146,  150.) 

But  this  is  only  putting  off  the  evil  day  when  we  have  to 
recognize  the  presence  of  the  universal.     For 

"  the  resemblance  required  will  have  to  be  a  universal.  Since 
there  are  many  white  things,  the  resemblance  must  hold  be- 
tween many  pairs  of  particular  white  things;  and  this  is  the 
characteristic  of  a  universal.  It  will  be  useless  to  say  that 
there  is  a  different  resemblance  for  each  pair,  for  we  shall  have 
to  say  that  these  resemblances  resemble  each  other,  and  thus 
at  last  we  shall  be  forced  to  admit  resemblance  as  a  universal. 
The  relation  of  resemblance,  then,  must  be  a  true  univer- 
sal  " 

"  Consider  such  a  proposition  as  Edinburgh  is  north  of  Lon- 
don. Here  we  have  a  relation  between  two  places,  and  it  seems 
plain  that  the  relation  subsists  independently  of  our  knowledge 
of  it.  .  .  .  The  part  of  the  earth's  surface  where  Edinburgh 
stands  would  be  north  of  the  part  where  London  stands,  even 
if  there  were  no  human  being  to  know  north  or  south,  and  even 
if  there  were  no  minds  at  all  in  the  universe."  (Ibid.  pp. 
151,  152.) 

This  follows,  as  we  have  seen,  from  the  realistic  theory 
of  perception,  so  that,  before  we  go  on  to  consider  the 
doctrine  of  universals,  we  may  assume  it  to  be  true  that 

"  nothing  mental  is  presupposed  in  the  fact  that  Edinburgh 
is  north  of  London.  But  this  fact  involves  the  relation  '  north 
of,'  which  is  a  universal,  and  it  would  be  impossible  for  the 


178  A  DEFENCE  OF  IDEALISM 

whole  fact  to  involve  nothing  mental,  if  the  relation  '  north  of,' 
which  is  a  constituent  part  of  the  fact,  did  involve  anything 
mental." 

(Idealists  will  again  agree  heartily  with  this  view.  It 
would,  indeed,  be  impossible.) 

"  Hence  we  must  admit  that  the  relation,  like  the  terms  it 
relates,  is  not  dependent  upon  thought,  but  belongs  to  the  inde- 
pendent world  which  thought  apprehends  but  does  not  cre- 
ate. .  .  ." 

"  If  we  ask,  '  Where  and  when  does  this  relation  exist  ? '  the 
answer  must  be  '  Nowhere  and  nowhen.'  There  is  no  place  or 
time  where  we  can  find  the  relation  '  north  of.'  ...  It  is  neither 
in  space  nor  in  time,  neither  material  nor  mental;  yet  it  is 
something.  .  .  ." 

"  Thoughts  and  feelings,  minds  and  physical  objects  exist. 
But  universals  do  not  exist  in  this  sense;  we  shall  say  that 
they  subsist  or  have  heing,  where  being  is  opposed  to  '  existence ' 
as  being  timeless.  The  world  of  universals,  therefore,  may  also 
be  described  as  the  world  of  being. 

"  The  world  of  being  is  unchangeable,  rigid,  exact,  delightful 
to  the  mathematician,  the  logician,  the  builder  of  metaphysical 
systems,  and  all  who  love  perfection  more  than  life."  {Ibid. 
pp.  153-156.) 

Thus  Mr.  Edward  Spalding  in  his  Defence  of  Analysis: 

"  The  concept  is  not  the  printed  or  spoken  sign,  the  word. 
It  would  subsist,  did  the  signs  not  exist.  ...  It  is  not  the 
knowledge  or  idea  of  the  state  of  affairs."  [The  concept  or 
group  of  concepts.]  ..."  It  is  not  identical  with  the  individual 
cases,  whatever  these  be.  Number  is  not  any  one  number,  man 
is  not  a  man,  etc.  It  is  not  necessarily  even  physical  or  mental, 
even  when  the  individual  cases  are  physical  or  mental  exist- 
ents."     {The  New  Realism,  p.  233.) 

Thus  Mr.  Cecil  Delisle  Burns  in  William  of  Ochham  on 
Universals : 

".  .  .  The  facts  of  experience  necessitate  the  supposition  of 
(1)  particulars  differing  numerically  and  not  as  collections  of 


THE  NEW  REALISM  179 

different  qualities,  and  (2)  likenesses  implying  the  existence  of 
some  sort  of  reality  which  is  different  from  the  reality  of  the 
particulars "  .  .  .  "  the  likeness  '  between '  particulars  has  to 
be  explained  by  reference  to  a  third  thing  which  we  may  call 
a  universal.  Nor  can  the  mere  addition  or  blurring  of  par- 
ticulars (thisnesses)  produce  a  likeness  (whatness).  The  uni- 
versal, therefore,  must  be  a  kind  of  reality  in  relation  to  which 
the  particulars  are  '  alike.'  Thus  it  exists  beside,  and,  if  you 
like  it,  above  or  beyond  the  particulars."  ..."  "We  may  say  that 
universals  are  '  in  mente,'  but  that  they  are  and  are  independ- 
ently of  our  knowledge  of  them  there  is  no  doubt.  Therefore 
they  exist  in  some  other  way  than  the  way  particulars  exist; 
hence  we  say  that  the  likeness  'in'  things  is  not  the  universal 
hut  indicates  the  universal."     (Pp.  13-19.) 

The  italics  are  mine.  They  emphasise  the  most  impor- 
tant point  of  all. 

The  reason  for  this  planting  out  is  not  far  to  seek;  it 
follows  from  the  law  of  analytic  logic,  which  postulates 
the  independence  and  the  reality  and  the  infinite  number 
of  its  universals. 

For  the  validity  of  all  reasoning,  both  inductive  and 
deductive,  depends  on  the  presence,  somewhere  in  the 
chain,  of  a  universal  proposition,  either  arrived  at  or  as- 
sumed, either  expressed  or  implied.  In  deduction,  which 
proceeds  from  the  universal  to  the  particular,  it  is  obvious 
that  this  is  so.  But  it  is  no  less  imperative  in  all  induc- 
tion, which  proceeds,  at  its  logical  peril,  from  the  particu- 
lar to  the  universal.  Logical  peril :  for,  consider,  that  by 
no  possible  conjuring  can  you  obtain  a  universal  proposi- 
tion from  the  simple  enumeration  of  particular  cases. 
Not  if  you  went  on  enumerating  for  ten  thousand  yeai*s, 
untold  generations  of  observers  taking  up  the  tale.  Eor 
the  peculiar,  indefinable,  indestructible  validity  of  a  uni- 
versal law  is  not  born  of  tireless  and  vociferous  repetition. 

But  deduction  must  obtain  its  universal  somewhere. 
You  must  therefore  assume  the  existence  of  as  many  uni- 
versals as  there  are  possible  propositions  if  there  is  to  be 
any  reasoning  at  all. 


180  A  DEFENCE  OF  IDEALISM 

It  follows  that,  if  reasoning  is  to  bold  good  of  the  real 
world,  universals  must  be  as  real,  as  independent  of  con- 
sciousness, as  any  of  the  realities  which  analytic  logic  has 
shown  to  be  firmly  established  in  space  and  time. 

Universals,  then,  are  concepts ;  but  concepts  are  not 
"  thought-relations  "  in  the  idealist's  sense ;  nor  are  they 
in  any  sense  constructed  or  constituted  by  thought.  They 
are  entities;  objects  of  conception,  independent  of  the 
conceiver,  standing  on  their  own  feet  in  their  own  spaceless 
and  timeless  world,  as  objects  of  perception  stand  in  space 
and  time. 

There  is  a  concept  or  universal,  not  only  of  every  num- 
ber and  quantity,  and  every  thing  and  every  quality,  but  of 
every  possible  relation  that  obtains  between  all  or  any  of 
them ;  and  of  every  proposition  that  can  be  made  concern- 
ing all  or  any  of  them ;  ^^  so  that  the  world  of  the  univer- 
sals is  as  infinite  as  the  world  of  space  or  time.  If  you 
ask  how,  apart  from  their  logical  functions,  they  may  be 
said  to  he,  the  answer  is  that  they  are  as  objects  of  con- 
ceptual contemplation. 

Now  it  is  clear  that  on  this  theory  the  role  of  conscious- 
ness is  reduced  to  the  very  narrowest  margin ;  and  that  the 
Self  will  be  nothing  more  than  the  spectator  of  existence. 

As  Mr.  Joseph  Conrad  says :  "  This  is  purely  a  spec- 
tacular universe."  There  is  nothing  in  it  which  can  be 
said  to  have  arisen  in  consciousness.  Thus,  a  magnificent 
spectacle  has  been  provided,  at  the  expense  of  conscious- 
ness, by  the  ruthless  planting  out  on  to  a  distant  stage  of 
everything  once  held  securely  within  it. 

If  we  ask  whether,  within  the  Self's  narrow  border, 
there  remains  anything  at  all  that  is  the  work  of  conscious- 
ness, we  are  told :  Yes ;  besides  the  primary  and  second- 
ary qualities  of  matter  there  are  certain  tertiary  qualities 
that  cannot  be  planted  out  with  them.  Such  are  the  aes- 
thetic feelings  and  values,  the  moral  feelings  and  values; 


THE  NEW  EEALISM  181 

delight,  charm,  and  their  opposites,  all  that  Mr.  Alexander 
calls  "  the  richness  of  mind,"  and  all  that  is  creative  in  the 
objects  of  creative  art.  These  are  purely  subjective. 
They  have  no  home  anywhere  but  in  the  Self  that  feels 
them.  It  is  interesting  to  see  that  Mr.  Alexander  in- 
cludes among  them  beauty  and  goodness,  which  to  Mr.  G. 
E.  Moore  and  Mr.  Bertrand  Kussell  are  essentially  ob- 
jective realities,  universals;  and  that  Mr.  Ralph  Perry 
recognizes  what  he  calls  "  content  patterns,"  as  deter- 
mined exclusively  by  the  agency  (selective  and  combining) 
of  the  subject  of  consciousness.  Mr.  Perry  also  admits 
that 

"higher  complexes,  such  as  history,  society,  life,  or  reflective 
thought,  are  dependent  on  consciousness ;  " 

but  whether  he  would  get  any  backing  here  from  his 
brother  realists  is  open  to  doubt. 

The  emotions  and  the  passions,  which  might  have  loomed 
so  large,  are  left  out  of  the  accounts  I  have  referred  to  — 
probably  as  too  glaringly  subjective  for  special  notice. 

Personally,  I  do  not  see  how,  on  the  theory,  the  Self  can 
be  justly  credited  with  the  work  of  its  imagination.  For 
imagination  deals  with  universals,  and  has  its  home  in  the 
eternal.  Therefore  one  would  have  supposed  that  creative 
Art  was  the  least  subjective  of  entities.  Its  works  are 
planted  out  for  ever  in  the  spaceless  and  the  timeless 
world. 

I  do  not  know  whether  this  conclusion  would  be  held  to 
follow  strictly  from  the  premisses  of  the  New  Eealism. 
But  I  think  it  should  follow.  There  is,  however,  I  be- 
lieve, considerable  divergence  of  opinion  on  this  point. 

I  think  it  must  be  allowed  that  the  New  Realism  has 
made  out  a  strong  case  for  itself,  and  that  where  Pragma- 
tism and  Hmnanism  have  failed  it  has  succeeded. 

I  do  not  think  that  the  idealistic  monist  will  gain  any- 


182  A  DEFENCE  OF  IDEALISM 

thing  by  refusing  to  concede  to  it  the  full  measure  of  its 
success.  I  believe  that,  if  he  meets  it  courageously,  so  far 
from  driving  him  out  of  the  bosom  of  the  Absolute,  it  will 
fold  him  more  securely  in.  If  he  thrives  on  M^hat  Walt 
Whitman  called  "  the  terrible  doubt  of  appearances,"  if 
there  is  nothing  terrible  to  him  in  that  doubt,  it  is  because 
to  him  the  terrible  thing  would  be  to  be  shut  up  for  ever 
in  this  prison  of  space  and  time  and  matter,  and  to  know 
nothing  for  ever  but  appearances,  when  it  is  reality  for 
which  he  hungers  and  thirsts. 

To  begin  with,  whatever  Pluralistic  Realism  does  to  him, 
^  it  does  not  shut  him  up  in  any  prison.  On  the  contrary, 
to  borrow  Mr.  Bertrand  Russell's  phrase,  it  "  gives  him 
wings."  It  proves  to  him  that  the  bosom  he  desires,  the 
barren  bosom  of  the  Absolute,  is  a  prison  indeed.  The 
universe  it  opens  to  him  has  no  walls,  not  even  the  walls  of 
all-containing  deity.  It  is  only  to  be  conceived,  so  far  as  it 
can  be  conceived  at  all,  as  an  infinite  number  of  infinitely 
intersecting  planes  of  reality,  each  one  of  which  is  infinite. 
Each  plane  represents  a  different  kind  or  order  of  reality, 
and  maintains  an  infinite  number  of  realities  within  or  on 
it.  Time  and  space  and  matter  are  not  prisons ;  for  time 
and  space  and  matter  are  infinite,  and  there  is  an  infinite 
number  of  times  and  spaces  and  matters  and  motions. 
Time  and  space  contain  an  infinite  number  of  separate 
planes,  as  it  were,  of  spatial  and  temporal  and  material 
realities ;  of  these  there  are  an  infinite  number  of  objects 
of  sensation,  an  infinite  number  of  objects  of  perception, 
and  an  infinite  number  of  their  relations  in  time  and  space. 

There  is  also  an  infinite  number  of  "  universals,"  the 
objects  of  conception,  out  of  time  and  out  of  space,  corre- 
sponding with  every  class  of  object  in  time  and  space:  and 
again,  an  infinite  number  of  relations  out  of  time  or  space, 
and  an  infinite  number  of  universals,  or  class-concepts  cor- 
responding with  each  relation.     And  as  every  single  num- 


THE  NEW  REALISM  183 

ber  of  this  infinity  of  infinities  is  a  real  thing,  an  entity,  the 
monist  cannot  justly  complain  of  any  lack  of  reality. 

But  while  the  N^ew  Eealism  gives  him  reality,  more 
reality  than  he  asked  or  dreamed  of,  reality  in  embarrass- 
ing, overwhelming  quantities,  it  does  not  give  or  profess 
to  give  him  the  kind  or  quality  of  reality  he  wants.  The 
New  Eealism,  in  its  turn,  complains  of  his  bad  taste  in 
wanting  any  other  reality  and  of  his  impudence  in  asking 
for  it.  But  there  is  no  reason  why  the  monist  should  not 
admire  this  largely  spectacular  universe  Realism  has  pro- 
vided. What  he  has  reason  to  complain  of  is  its  lack 
of  unity. 

Then  the  pluralist  tells  him  that  unity,  except  in  the 
peculiar  and  limited  form  of  a  Whole,  is  precisely  what  he 
cannot  have.  And  since  the  Whole  was,  after  all,  what 
the  monist  performed  nearly  all  his  monistic  tricks  with, 
he  may  seek  to  bargain  with  his  adversary  and  say :  You 
may  keep  all  your  infinities,  for  all  I  care,  if  only  you  will 
give  me  back  my  Whole  to  do  what  I  like  with  (for  he 
thinks  he  may  yet  succeed  in  packing  all  those  infinities 
inside  it  in  some  supreme  synthesis).  And  then  he  will 
learn  to  his  bewilderment  that  it  is  no  longer  his  to  do 
what  he  likes  with. 

In  fact,  he  will  not  recognize  his  Whole  by  the  time 
analytic  logic  has  done  with  it. 

To  begin  with,  it  raises  all  over  again  the  apparently 
innocent  but  really  formidable  question  which  Monism 
has  hitherto  answered  with  an  unhesitating  afiirmative: 
Is  the  relation  between  whole  and  part  such  that,  given  the 
concept  of  the  whole,  the  concept  of  the  part  follows  ? 
That  is  to  say:  Is  it  a  relation  of  logical  priority  ?  If  it 
is,  it  ought  to  follow  as  strictly  as  the  two  propositions: 
"  B  is  greater  than  A,"  and  "  A  is  less  than  B  "  follow 
from  and  imply  each  other. 


184  A  DEFENCE  OF  IDEALISM 

"  Then  we  should  be  able  to  define  the  relation  thus :  A  is 
said  to  be  part  of  B  when  B  is  implies  A  is,  but  A  is  does  not 
imply  B  is."     (Principia  Mathematica.) 

'Now  at  first  sight  this  looks  a  very  straightforward  and 
satisfactory  definition  of  the  relation  between  whole  and 
part.  And  it  looks  as  if  it  might  favour  Monism  by  at- 
taching the  whole  inseparably  to  the  part  and  the  part  in- 
separably to  the  whole  in  a  "  unity."  But  not  a  bit  of  it. 
Mr.  Bertrand  Russell  rejects  the  definition  on  the  grounds 
that  this  relation  of  logical  priority  cannot  be  made  to  run 
on  all  fours  with  the  relation  of  simple  mutual  implication 
between  "  B  is  greater  than  A  "  and  "  A  is  less  than  B  " ; 
that  it  is  not  a  simple  but  a  highly  complex  proposition ;  in- 
asmuch as  it  implies  other  propositions  asserting  the  being 
of  A,  and  the  being  of  B,  and  the  being  of  the  relation, 
each  of  which  is  simpler  than  itself ;  and  that  it  rests,  not 
only  on  the  proposition  "  B  implies  A,"  but  on  the  further 
proposition  "  A  does  not  imply  B." 

The  invalidity  of  the  definition  by  logical  priority  will 
be  seen  at  once  if  we  introduce  an  element  of  another 
kind  and  value. 

"  For  example,  *  A  is  greater  and  better  than  B '  implies  *  B 
is  less  than  A ' ;  but  the  converse  implication  does  not  hold : 
yet  the  latter  proposition  is  not  part  of  the  former." 

Again,  from  "  A  is  red,"  it  follows  that  A  is  coloured. 

"  Yet  the  proposition  '  A  is  red  '  is  no  more  complex  than  '  A 
is  coloured.'  .  .  .  Redness  in  fact,  appears  to  be  a  simple  concept 
which,  though  it  implies  colour,  does  not  contain  colour  as  a 
constituent." 

And  Mr.  Eussell  argues  that,  "  having  failed  to  define 
wholes  by  logical  priority,  we  shall  not,  I  think,  find  it 
possible  to  define  them." 

Now,  I  think,  the  monist  would  agree  heartily  that  if 
the  relation  of  whole  and  part  is  not  to  be  defined  by  logi- 


THE  NEW  REALISM  185 

cal  priority,  it  is  not  to  be  defined  at  all.  He  would  not 
be  at  all  so  certain  that  the  definition  he  thinks  so  satis- 
factory should  be  flung  aside  because  analysis  finds  that 
it  is  less  simple  than  it  looked  at  first.  He  would,  I  think, 
protest  against  propositions,  that  is  to  say,  judgments  cover- 
ing concrete  complexes  being  ruled  out  because  it  can  be 
shown  that  they  will  not  hold  good  when  reduced  to  the 
strictly  abstract  terms  of  formal  logic.  He  defies  the 
analyst  to  discover  any  flaw  in  the  definition:  A  is  said 
to  be  part  of  B  when  "  B  is  "  implies  "  A  is  "  but  "  A  is  " 
does  not  imply  "  B  is."  And  Mr.  Russell  admits  that 
"  this  state  of  things  is  realized  when  A  is  part  of  B."  It 
seems  to  him,  then,  sheer  wantonness  to  infect  this  still 
comparatively  simple  relation  by  complicating  it  with  irrel- 
evant elements  drawn  from  other  sources ;  and  then  to 
argue  that,  because  "  worse  "  is  very  far  from  being  part 
of  ^'  better,"  and  because  colour,  implied  by  red,  is  not  a 
part  of  red,  therefore  logical  implication  must  not  be  al- 
lowed to  infect  any  definition  of  whole  and  part,  when  it 
has  been  admitted  that  it  holds  good  when,  that  is  to  say, 
whenever  and  wherever  A  is  part  of  B, 

But  Mr.  Eussell  is  out  to  prove  that  this  particular 
relation  of  whole  and  part  is  an  indefinable  and  ultimate  ' 
relation,  a  concept  as  irreducible  as  goodness  or  badness, 
redness  or  colour,  and  that  there  is  no  question  of  the 
whole  holding  its  parts  together  in  a  unity,  or  of  the  parts 
as  existing  only  in  and  for  a  unity.  Correlation,  for  the. 
logical  atomism  of  the  pluralistic  realist,  does  not  involve 
either  "  higher  synthesis,"  or  mutual  dependence  of  rela- 
tions on  terms,  or  of  terms  on  each  other.  Concepts  are 
hard,  irreducible,  mutually  repellent  entities,  and  relations 
are  hard,  irreducible,  mutually  repellent  entities ;  and  when 
propositions  are  broken  up  they  are  broken.  What  ana- 
lytic logic  hath  put  asunder,  let  no  man  join. 

But  this  is  not  the  end  of  the  matter.     Besides  this 
indefinable  and  ultimate  relation  there  are  others.     And 


186  A  DEFENCE  OF  IDEALISM 

we  are  now  told  that  the  nature  of  the  relation  will  depend 
upon  '^  the  nature  both  of  the  whole  and  of  the  parts." 
For  it  would  appear  that  though  a  relation  is  not  allowed, 
on  pain  of  an  infinite  regress,  to  depend  upon  the  nature 
of  its  terms  when  this  dependence  suits  the  monist,  it  may 
do  so  for  the  convenience  of  the  pluralist,  who  in  this  case 
blinks  the  dilemma  with  tolerance  and  bonhomie. 

Thus  three  kinds  of  wholes  may  be  distinguished:  (1) 
Collections  or  aggregates  of  single  terms.  (2)  Collections 
or  aggregates  of  terms  that  are  themselves  aggregates. 
(3)   Collections  of  propositions  which  relate  or  qualify. 

It  is  only  when  we  reach  the  third  and  last  kind  of 
whole  that  we  arrive  at  unity. 

As  this  whole  always  consists  of  propositions  in  which 
something  is  related  to  something,  or  something  is  quali- 
fied by  something  else,  it  must  be  regarded  as  radically 
and  irreducibly  different  from  any  whole  which  is  simply 
a  collection  or  aggregate,  whether  of  single  terms  or  aggre- 
gates. And  the  relation  of  whole  and  part  in  any  unity 
will  be  radically  and  irreducibly  different  from  the  rela- 
tion of  whole  to  part  in  any  collection  or  aggregate.  So 
much  so  that  we  may  say  that  there  are  not  three  kinds  of 
whole  but  two  kinds:  Collections  (or  aggregates)  and 
unities. 

And  the  radical  and  irreducible  difference  between 
these  two  kinds  is  this:  that  in  a  collection,  whether  of 
single  terms  or  aggregates, 

"  such  a  whole  is  completely  specified  when  all  its  simple  con- 
stituents are  specified :  its  parts  have  no  direct  connection 
inter  se,  but  only  the  indirect  connection  involved  in  being 
parts  of  one  and  the  same  whole." 

Whereas  wholes  containing  relations  or  predicates 

"  are  not  specified  when  their  parts  are  all  known."  {Ihid.  p. 
140.) 


THE  NEW  KEALISM  187 

For,  take  the  simplest  instance,  "  A  differs  from  B," 
and  let  A  and  B  be  as  simple  as  you  please,  you  cannot 
reduce  this  whole  to  anything  simpler,  i.e.  to  fewer  terms 
than  "  A,"  "  B,"  and  "  difference."  Simple  as  it  seems, 
"  A  differs  from  B  "  is  really  a  very  complex  synthetic 
statement.  Under  analysis  it  yields,  as  we  have  seen,  "  A, 
B,  and  difference "  as  a  subordinate  aggregate  of  three 
terms,  and  the  whole  involved  in  its  implication,  "  B  differs 
from  A."  "  A,"  "  B,"  and  "  difference,"  must  be  thought 
of  as  three  single  and  irreducible  terms  before  ever  the  busi- 
ness of  joining  up  A  to  B  in  the  relation  of  their  difference 
can  begin.  The  relation  itself  is  a  new  thing  that  will 
not  he  found  in  the  analysis,  and  is  "  not  even  specified  by 
specifying  its  parts." 

So  that  the  only  unity  which  Analytic  Logic  allows  him, 
so  far,  is  a  unity  that  doesn't  yield  an  inch  of  ground  to 
the  struggling  monist.  In  fact,  he  is,  if  anything,  worse 
off  with  it  than  he  was  with  the  whole  as  a  "  collection  " ; 
since  the  collection  at  least  collected,  and  the  whole  could 
be  specified  by  its  terms  when  the  terms  were  known. 
We  have  got  to  realize  that  always 

"  the  whole  is  a  new  single  term,  distinct  from  each  of  its  parts 
and  from  all:  it  is  one,  not  many,  and  is  related  to  the  parts 
but  has  a  being  distinct  from  theirs."     (Ihid.,  loc.  cit.) 

And  the  pluralist  argues  that,  since  this  is  so,  we  can 
no  longer  talk  about  identity  in  difference,  or  about  the 
whole  being  present  in  its  parts,  or  about  the  parts  exist- 
ing in  the  whole. 

And  as  the  monist  surveys  the  ruins  which  Analytic 
Logic  has  made  of  his  neatly  ordered  and  closely  articu- 
lated world,  several  things  are  bound  to  occur  to  him.  I 
think  he  will  say:  All  this  may  be  true  of  finite  things 
and  of  finite  wholes.  I  have  never  denied  the  plurality  of 
finites.     But  my  Whole  is  Infinite. 

Let  us  see,  then,  what  the  pluralist's  account  is  of  In- 


188  A  DEFENCE  OF  IDEALISM 

finite  Wholes,  and  whether  they  are  in  any  better  case. 

"  We  must  then  admit  infinite  aggregates.  It  remains  to 
ask  a  more  difficult  question,  namely :  Are  we  to  admit  infinite 
unities?  .  .  .  Are  there  any  infinitely  complex  propositions? 
...  A  unity  will  be  infinite  when  the  aggregate  of  all  its  con- 
stituents is  infinite;  but  this  scarcely  constitutes  the  meaning 
of  infinite  unity.  ... 

"  An  infinite  unity  will  be  an  infinitely  complex  proposition : 
it  must  not  be  analysable  in  any  way  into  a  finite  number  of 
constituents.  .  .  .  Now,  for  my  part,  I  see  no  possible  way  of 
deciding  whether  propositions  of  infinite  complexity  are  possible 
or  not,  but  this  at  least  is  clear  that  all  the  propositions  known 
to  us  (or  probably  all  that  we  can  know)  are  of  finite  complexity. 
.  .  .  Thus  the  question  whether  or  not  there  are  infinite  unities 
must  be  left  unanswered,  the  only  thing  we  can  say  on  this 
subject  is  that  no  such  unities  occur  in  any  department  of 
human  knowledge,  and  therefore  none  such  are  relevant  to  the 
foundation  of  mathematics."  (Principia  Mathematica,  pp.  145, 
146.) 

I  There  is  no  comfort  for  the  monist  here.  The  only 
sort  of  infinite  whole  that  Pluralism  will  allow  him  is  an 
infinite  collection ;  and  an  infinite  collection,  so  far  from 
being  any  good  to  him,  carries  on  the  business  of  plurality 
for  ever  and  ever,  world  without  end. 


n 

So  far,  it  must,  I  think,  be  admitted  that,  where  the 
logic  of  the  new  realist  meets  the  logic  of  the  monist,  the 
encounter  has  been  apparently  to  the  disadvantage  of  the 
monist.  Hitherto  the  monist  has  either  neglected  mathe- 
matics altogether,  or  he  has  seized  on  them  greedily  to 
nourish  his  appetite  for  dilemmas.  Thus  his  position  be- 
comes vulnerable  from  the  first  moment  when  the  mathe- 
matician cuts  oif  his  nourishment  at  its  source  by  solving 
the  dilemmas. 

It  remains  to  be  seen  whether  his  Idealistic  Monism  has 
sufiicient  vitality,  or  sufficient  command  of  other  resources 
to  survive  the  blockade. 

His  ultimate  and  complete  overthrow  must  follow  if  he 
has  no  other  resources  than  the  slender  synthetic  methods 
he  has  employed  hitherto;  if,  that  is  to  say,  he  stands  or 
falls  by  the  entire  epistemology  of  the  past.  It  must  fol- 
low, in  any  case,  whatever  his  unexplored  resources,  if  the 
New  Eealism  succeeds  in  its  attempt  to  make  the  laws  of 
pure  mathematics  binding  on  a  universe  which,  as  known 
and  experienced,  is  anything  but  pure ;  and  if  it  succeeds 
in  keeping  those  laws  secure  from  the  assaults  of  any 
countering  analysis  which  may  reveal  in  them  a  secret 
contradiction  and  dilemma. 

I  do  not  say :  if  its  doctrine  of  Pluralism,  and  its  account 
of  knowledge  in  general,  and  of  immediate  perception  in 
particular,  should  hold  water ;  for  I  think  it  will  be  found 
that,  so  far  as  these  do  not  follow  as  corollaries  from  its 
mathematical  arguments,  they  have  been  deliberately  ar- 
ranged to  correspond. 

Now,  there  is  no  doubt  that  the  idealist's  habit  of  rash 

189 


190  A  DEFENCE  OF  IDEALISM 

synthesis  has  laid  him  open  to  attack.  Whatever  happens 
to  the  constructions  of  the  'New  Realism,  much  of  its 
critique  of  the  older  Idealism  must  remain  as  perhaps  the 
most  vitally  important  and  necessary  work  that  any  phi- 
losophy has  yet  done.  This  is  why  I  shall  consider  this 
part  of  it  in  rather  more  detail  than  the  slight  form  of 
these  essays  warrants.  Readers  who  have  no  taste  for  ab- 
stract thinking  will  do  well  to  skip  the  next  thirty  pages 
or  so;  for  I  warn  them  they  will  be  taken  over  a  very 
dry  and  difficult  piece  of  ground.  At  the  same  time  they 
should  remember  that  we  despise  abstractions  at  our  peril. 
There  never  was  an  abstraction  so  abstract  that  it  or  its 
kind  was  not  at  some  time  or  other  the  burning  centre  of 
man's  passion ;  and,  even  now,  it  may  be  that  our  hope  of 
God  and  heaven  and  immortality,  and  the  present  existence 
of  our  very  selves  hang  on  as  thin  a  thread. 

We  will  begin  with  Mr.  Bertrand  Russell's  criticism  of 
the  Monistic  Theory  of  Truth,  for  it  amounts  to  a  criticism 
of  the  Monistic  Theory  of  Reality. 

The  monist  says  that  the  Truth  is  the  Whole.  And 
Mr.  Russell  argues  that,  if  this  is  so,  no  part  of  the  truth 
can  be  true.  When  Mr.  Joachim  says  that  "  the  truth  is 
one  and  whole  and  complete  "  it  means 

"  that  nothing  is  wholly  true  except  the  whole  truth,  and  what 
seem  to  be  isolated  truths,  such  as  2  +  2  =  4  are  really  only 
true  in  the  sense  that  they  form  part  of  a  system  which  is  the 
whole  truth  .  .  .  the  truth  that  a  certain  partial  truth  is  part 
of  the  whole  is  a  partial  truth,  and  thus  only  partially  true; 
hence  we  can  never  say  with  perfect  truth  this  is  part  of  the 
Truth.  Hence  there  can  be  no  sense  of  truth  which  is  com- 
pletely applicable  to  a  partial  truth,  because  everything  that 
can  be  said  about  a  partial  truth  is  a  partial  truth  .  .  .  thus 
the  complete  truth  about  any  part  is  the  same  as  the  complete 
truth  about  any  other  part,  since  each  is  the  whole  truth."  ^^ 

I  do  not  know  whether  every  monist  would  accept  this 
statement  of  his  position.     He  ought  not  to  admit  the  very 


THE  NEW  REALISM  191 

first  construction  which  Mr.  Russell  has  foisted  on  him, 
as  it  stands,  but  he  would,  I  think,  amend  it  thus :  Noth- 
ing is  wholly  true  of  things  that  are  wholes  except  the  whole 
truth ;  by  which  he  will  secure  his  position  when  he  defines 
Reality  as  the  Whole.  He  would  distinguish  between  iso- 
lated truths  and  isolated  facts;  and  while  admitting  that 
truths,  artificially  isolated  by  logical  analysis,  may  be 
"  wholly  true  "  as  far  as  they  go,  he  would  insist  that  if 
facts  could  be  isolated,  torn  from  the  living  context  in 
which  they  are  born  and  by  which  they  continue,  if  they 
could  be  stripped  bare,  that  is  to  say,  of  their  "  relations," 
no  truth  could  be  known  about  them  at  all ;  thus  he  would 
deny  that  "  isolated  facts  "  and  "  the  whole  truth  "  can  be 
made  to  run  logically  on  all  fours.  For  instance,  though 
it  may  be  wholly  true  that  water  consists  of  HgOi  in 
chemical  combination,  it  is  not  the  whole  truth  about 
water ;  it  is  not  the  whole  truth  about  hydrogen  or  oxygen. 
And  by  this  time  he  would  begin  to  see  that  the  trap  that 
was  laid  for  him  is  a  logical  quibble  turning  on  the  "  whole 
truth  "  and  "  wholly  true." 

The  only  construction  that  he  would  accept  without 
reservation  is  the  last,  "  the  complete  truth  about  any 
part  is  the  complete  truth  about  any  other  part  since  each 
is  the  whole  of  truth."  The  point  which  Monism  and 
Pluralism  will  contest  for  ever  is  the  point  at  which  the 
complete  truth  may  he  said  to  have  been  reached.  For  the  1 1 
pluralist,  if  he  is  logically  consistent,  there  can  be  no  such 
point,  since  the  parts  of  his  universe  are  infinite.  For 
the  Monist,  it  cannot  be  reached  anywhere  short  of  the 
Absolute. 

We  shall  see,  later  on,  that  the  pluralist  reaches  it  everyii 
where  by  the  erection  of  an  infinity  of  independent  abso- 
lutes. 

To  go  back  to  the  assault  on  Mr.  Joachim.  My  monist 
has  accepted  the  first  and  the  last  construction  put  on  him. 
It  is  in  the  intermediate  propositions  that  he  would  be 


192  A  DEFENCE  OF  IDEALISM 

likely  to  suspect  a  humorous  parody  of  his  position: 
"  What  seem  to  be  isolated  truths,  such  as  2  +  2  ^  4,  are 
really  only  true  in  the  sense  that  they  form  part  of  the 
system  which  is  the  whole  truth.  ..."  "  The  truth  that 
a  certain  partial  truth  is  part  of  the  whole  is  a  partial  truth 
and  thus  only  partially  true ;  hence  we  can  never  say  with 
perfect  truth  '  this  is  part  of  the  truth.'  "  The  monist 
who  believes  that  nothing  is  wholly  true,  in  his  sense,  ex- 
cept the  whole  truth,  is  not  bound  to  deny  that  2  -[-  2  =  4 
is  part  of  the  truth ;  he  is  only  bound  to  deny  that  it  is  the 
whole  truth  about  2  and  about  4,  and  that  the  whole  truth 
about  2  and  about  4  is  the  whole  truth  about  number,  and 
that  the  whole  truth  about  number  is  the  whole  truth  about 
reality.  He  would  insist  that  if  you  isolate  that  appar- 
ently self-evident  proposition  about  2  and  2  in  such  a  way 
as  to  ignore  the  other  ''  isolated  truths  "  about  number, 
for  instance,  that  16  -f-  16  =  32,  or  4-^2  =  2,  or  even 
that  7  X  'T^  ^  49,  you  have  only  a  partial  knowledge  of 
2  -|-  2.  And  again  he  would  protest  against  the  quibble 
that  turns  on  taking  a  partial  truth  as  equivalent  to  par- 
tially true. 

But  the  sterner  problem  for  the  monist  arises  when  you 
isolate  all  the  truths  you  know  about  number  from  all  the 
truths  you  know  about  quality,  and  find  that,  although 
within  their  own  wholes  none  are  completely  true  when 
torn  from  their  respective  contexts,  yet  the  whole  set  of 
arithmetical  truths,  and  the  whole  set  of  qualitative  truths 
stand  apparently  on  their  own  feet,  and  in  the  most  perfect 
isolation  and  independence.  If  it  were  not  true  that 
2  -}-  1  =  3,  it  would  still  be  true  that  water  consists  of 
two  parts  of  hydrogen  to  one  of  oxygen.  That  in  this  case 
we  should  have  considerable  difiiculty  in  measuring  the 
parts  is  not  any  argument  from  the  pluralistic  realist's 
point  of  view.  Wherever  water  is  there  will  be  II2O1 
whether  you  measure  and  number  them  or  not.  In  the 
same  way  the  numbers  two  and  one  and  three,  and  all  the 


THE  NEW  KEALISM  193 

relations  between  them,  would  persist  as  eternal  realities, 
and  all  the  truths  about  them  would  be  eternally  true, 
whether  there  were  any  thing  to  be  numbered  in  the  uni- 
verse or  not.  (In  this  case  the  numbers  would  still  have 
the  resource  of  numbering  each  other.) 

And  yet,  without  quantity,  so  much  hydrogen  to  so  much 
oxygen,  without  proportion  which  can  be  expressed  by 
number,  the  qualities  of  water  cannot  be.  You  cannot, 
except  by  an  artificial  logical  analysis  tear  those  two  wholes 
apart.  Therefore  they  are  not  wholes ;  they  are  only  com- 
plexes, knit  together,  with  all  their  several  complexities, 
into  the  structure  of  the  universe.  Isolate  them,  not  from 
each  other,  but  from  that  greater  Whole,  and  what  inde- 
pendence and  what  reality  will  they  have?  , 

That  is  the  crux.  The  pluralistic  realist  says  they  have  ' 
their  own  reality  and  that  is  enough.  The  monist  says  that 
in  that  state  of  dismemberment  they  have  no  reality ;  they 
are  only  appearances ;  Reality  is  the  Absolute  whole  of 
Spirit  (or  of  some  consciousness)  which  alone  holds  them 
together.  Both  agree  that  somehow  or  other  they  are  to- 
gether. The  monist  says,  or  ought  to  say,  that  they  can 
only  be  separated  by  an  arbitrary  process  of  abstraction. 

It  looks  as  if  the  realist,  rashly  supposing  that  the  ideal- 
ist is  always  talking  and  thinking  about  ideas,  had  taken 
for  granted  that  he  could  be  floored  by  an  argument  that 
rests  on  an  unreal  abstraction ;  whereas  the  world  the 
monist  is  considering  is  the  same  real  and  related  world, 
the  world  of  intricate  connections  and  mutual  dependencies 
and  correspondences,  of  things  linked  and  platted  together 
and  interwoven,  and  separable  only  in  thought.  Nobody  is 
contending  that  the  truth  2  -|-  2  =  4  is  an  unreal  ab- 
straction, or  that  it  is  not  a  holy  and  eternal  truth,  if  all 
the  other  truths  about  number  are  holy  and  eternal  too ;  or 
that  a  partial  truth  is  not  tnie  as  far  as  it  goes.  The 
idealist  is,  I  think,  well  within  his  rights  in  protesting 
against  Mr.  Bertrand  Russell's  use  of  the  terms  '^  the  whole 


194  A  DEFENCE  OF  IDEALISM 

truth  "  and  "  a  partial  truth  "  as  equivalent  to  wholly  true 
and  partially  true. 

The  destructive  force  of  Mr.  Russell's  argument  rests 
on  this  dubious  equivalence  and  on  nothing  else. 

Let  us  take  things  as  they  are,  in  the  concrete.  It  is 
wholly  true  that  Mr.  Bertrand  Russell  is  a  brilliant  mathe- 
matician, but  it  is  not  the  whole  truth  about  Mr.  Bertrand 
Russell.  Mr.  Bertrand  Russell  is  more  than  a  brilliant 
mathematician,  he  is  a  brilliant  logician,  he  is  a  brilliant 
writer,  he  is  (unfortunately  at  the  present  moment),  a 
pacifist,  and  he  is  a  number  of  other  things  besides.  He  is 
a  pluralistic  universe  in  himself. 

But  he  is  a  universe,  a  whole. 

And  that  he  is  a  brilliant  mathematician  is  so  far  from 
being  the  whole  truth  about  him  that  it  is  not  the  whole 
truth  about  the  brilliance  of  his  mathematics,  which  is  in- 
separable from  the  brilliance  of  his  logic.  If  we  knew 
the  whole  truth  about  Mr.  Bertrand  Russell,  we  should 
know  why  he  is  a  brilliant  mathematician  and  logician. 
We  should  even  know  why  he  is,  at  this  unfortunate  mo- 
ment, a  pacifist.  What  we  do  not  know  about  all  this  bril- 
liance is  its  inevitableness  as  a  quality  of  Mr.  Bertrand 
Russell. 

Mr.  Russell  would  point  out  that  our  proposition  can 
perfectly  well  stand  alone;  that  it  is  wholly  true  and  suf- 
ficiently significant  in  itself.  And  I  do  not  see  that  the 
monist  is  pledged  to  deny  this,  even  while  maintaining  that 
we  are  as  far  as  ever  from  the  ultimate  truth,  the  ultimate 
reality  of  Mr.  Russell. 

Mr.  Bertrand  Russell,  and  his  mathematics  and  the  rest 
of  it,  is  an  instance  that  serves  the  monist  very  well.  For 
the  personality  of  Mr.  Russell  is  precisely  that  sort  of 
spiritual  whole  he  has  in  mind  when  he  declares  that  the 
Whole  is  present  in  its  parts,  and  that  the  parts  have  no 
complete  significance  apart  from  the  whole.     Whether  he 


THE  :N'EW  EEALISM  195 

has  grounds  for  maintaining  that  the  Reality  of  the  uni- 
verse is  of  that  nature  remains  to  be  seen. 

Meanwhile,  when  Mr.  Joachim,  the  monist  quoted  by 
Mr.  Russell,  says,  "The  erring  subject's  confident  belief  in 
the  truth  of  his  knowledge  distinctly  characterizes  error  and 
converts  a  partial  apprehension  of  the  truth  into  falsity," 
he  certainly  lays  himself  open  to  the  attack  of  Mr.  Rus- 
sell's brilliant  logic.  But  he  is  deserting  the  game  of 
Monism,  and  stating  a  private  theory  of  truth.  All  that 
his  metaphysical  theory  commits  him  to  is  the  statement 
that,  if  a  man  believes  a  partial  truth  to  be  a  whole  truth, 
he  is  in  error.  And  he  is  in  error  precisely  in  Mr.  Rus- 
sell's sense.  His  error  consists  in  a  false  judgment  about 
reality.  The  confidence  of  his  belief  has  nothing  to  do 
with  it  except  so  far  as  it  is  calculated  to  keep  him  in  his 
error. 

According  to  Mr.  Bertrand  Russell,  the  unfortunate 
monist  has  no  means  of  distinguishing  between  truth  and 
error.  The  two  propositions  "  Bishop  Stubbs  was  hanged 
for  murder,"  and  "  Bishop  Stubbs  used  to  wear  gaiters," 
are,  for  him,  on  the  same  level  of  truth  and  of  reality. 
The  monist  who  looks  beyond  the  partial  truth  that  Bishop 
Stubbs  used  to  wear  gaiters  to  that  whole  episcopal 
phenomenon  of  which  gaiters  are  but  a  part,  has  no  logical 
grounds  for  denying  that  Bishop  Stubbs  was  hanged  for 
murder. 

And  yet  the  monist's  grounds  are  the  same  as  anybody 
else's  grounds,  and  he  has  the  same  right  to  them.  If  he 
were  defending  Bishop  Stubbs  from  a  charge  of  murder, 
he  would  appeal,  not  only  to  the  integrity  of  the  episcopal 
phenomenon,  but  to  the  whole  of  the  evidence,  the  whole 
sequence  and  conglomeration  of  facts  by  which  it  is  es- 
tablished beyond  doubt  that  Bishop  Stubbs  did  not,  as  a 
matter  of  fact,  commit  murder. 

That  murder  and  Bishop  Stubbs  are  in  no  possible  way 


196  A  DEFENCE  OF  IDEALISM 

connected  cannot  be  said  with  perfect  truth ;  since  Bishop 
Stubbs  shares  the  common  humanity  of  all  the  murderers 
that  ever  were.  In  their  hypothetical  ultimate  reality  as 
immaterial  beings,  there  is  no  difference,  except  a  numer- 
ical difference,  between  all  those  murderers  and  Bishop 
Stubbs.  And  in  their  hypothetical  oneness  in  the  Abso- 
lute (with  which  numerical  identity  has  absolutely  nothing 
to  do),  there  would  be  absolutely  no  difference  between 
them.  All  the  same,  as  an  apparition  (wearing  gaiters), 
in  space  and  time,  Bishop  Stubbs  could  not,  and  did  not, 
commit  murder. 

So  far  Mr.  EusselFs  arguments  have  been  destructive 
only  to  a  Monism  of  logical  abstractions,  the  quantitative 
finite  whole  which  is  the  sum  of  its  parts,  the  numerical 
one,  the  abstract  absolute.  They  have  no  grip  on  the  hy- 
pothesis of  a  real,  living  whole,  a  real  Absolute,  a  real 
unity  of  finite  and  infinite,  a  real  Spirit  immanent  or 
transcendent. 

But  Mr.  Russell  has  another  and  more  formidable  argu- 
ment. He  deduces  the  whole  doctrine  of  Monism  from  the 
axiom  of  internal  relations :  "  Every  relation  is  grounded 
in  the  nature  of  the  related  terms." 

Mr.  Russell  says  that  Monism  stands  or  falls  by  this 
axiom,  and  tries  to  show  how  impossible  it  is  that  it  should 
be  stood  by.  The  discreet  monist  will  therefore  think 
twice  before  he  gives  his  assent  to  it,  for  it  is  the  weapon 
Mr.  Russell  is  coming  out  to  slay  him  with. 

Perhaps  he  will  think  of  certain  obvious  relations  be- 
tween subject  and  object,  cause  and  effect,  the  thing  and  its 
qualities ;  between  premisses  and  conclusion,  subject  and 
predicate ;  or  between  positions  in  space  and  sequences  in 
time,  and  will  say  without  a  moment's  hesitation:  Yes, 
of  course  the  relation  is  grounded  in  the  nature  of  its  terms. 
For  surely  the  terms  of  a  relation  imply  each  other.  That 
the  subject  A  perceives  the  object  B,  implies  that  it  is  in  the 


THE  NEW  REALISM  197 

nature  of  A  to  perceive  B,  and  of  B  to  be  perceived  by  A ; 
even  though  nobody  knows  what  that  nature  is,  and  though 
the  relation  remains  for  ever  mysterious.  That  A  is  the 
cause  of  B  implies  that  it  is  the  nature  of  A  to  cause  B, 
and  of  B  to  be  caused  by  A ;  it  is  the  nature  of  such  and 
such  premisses  to  lead  to  such  and  such  conclusions,  and  of 
such  and  such  conclusions  to  follow.  If  it  were  not  the 
nature  of  A  to  have  the  quality  B,  it  would  not  have  B, 
and  B  must  be  such  a  quality  that  it  can  belong  to  A.  The 
same  will  hold  of  subject  and  predicate  in  every  statement 
made  with  regard  to  truth.  If  A  is  eternally  to  the  left  of 
B,  and  therefore  B  eternally  to  the  right  of  A,  there  is 
something  eternally  in  their  natures  which  makes  these 
positions  eternally  possible  (they  must,  that  is  to  say,  be 
material  objects  occupying  space,  and  conditioned  so  as  to 
occupy  it  in  that  particular  relation)  ;  or,  if  these  posi- 
tions are  only  temporary,  then  there  is  something  in  their 
natures,  a  tendency  to  move  or  a  tendency  to  perish,  which 
makes  these  positions  tenable  only  temporarily.  In  saying 
all  this,  the  monist  may  think  that  he  has  stated  both  the 
correct  and  the  common-sense  view  of  relations.  Eemem- 
ber,  he  has  not  yet  committed  himself  to  any  explanation 
of  their  mystery. 

And  all  the  time  he  is  playing  disastrously  into  Mr. 
Eussell's  hands. 

First  of  all,  it  is  assumed  that  he  does  not  distinguish 
between  the  terms  and  the  nature  of  the  terms.  In  this 
case  he  is  floored  with  the  same  arguments  which  were 
brought  to  bear  against  his  theory  of  the  whole  and  the 
parts.  On  that  theory  he  cannot  make  a  true  statement 
about  any  relation  between  two  terms  without  knowing  all 
the  relations  in  which  each  term  stands  to  all  other  things, 
and  without  knowing  all  other  things  which  enter  into  that 
relation.  Say  it  is  the  relation  of  perceiving  subject  to 
object  perceived,  he  cannot  say  with  perfect  truth  that  A 
perceives  B  without  knowing  how  many  other  subjects  B  is 


198  A  DEFENCE  OF  IDEALISM 

perceived  by.  And  then  he  hasn't  got  further  than  the 
two  terms.  There  is  still  the  relation  of  perceiving.  He 
must  therefore  know  all  perceiving  wherever  perceiving 
occurs.  He  must  therefore  know  all  subjects  perceiving 
and  all  objects  perceived. 

I  have  taken  a  relation  which  by  its  very  simplicity  and 
comprehensiveness  is  most  dangerously  exposed  to  Mr. 
Russell's  attack;  but  it  is  clear  that  his  argument  applies 
with  equal  ferocity  to  all  the  other  instances  that  have  been 
given. 

Again,  if  relations  are  grounded  in  the  nature  of  their 
terms,  there  can  be  no  diversity  of  things.  Consider  the 
relation  of  diversity.  A  is  different  from  B,  therefore  B  is 
different  from  A.  Simple  unqualified  difference  cannot  be 
predicated  as  a  common  adjective  of  both.  They  must  be 
different  in  some  way.  (Mr.  Russell  does  not  say  so,  but 
his  argument  requires  us  to  consider  that  A  and  B  differ  in 
some  way.)  They  have,  then,  different  predicates.  In 
what  way  do  the  predicates  differ  ?  They  have  different 
predicates.  In  what  way  do  these  different  predicates  dif- 
fer ?     They  have  different  predicates.     In  what  way 

But,  as  it  is  clear  that  the  process  must  stop  somewhere 
(for  even  Mr.  Russell's  Pluralistic  Universe  would  not  pro- 
vide the  differences  necessary  to  follow  up  the  infinite  re- 
gression), we  are  driven  to  the  conclusion  that  A  and  B 
are  not  different  from  each  other.  ]^either  are  C  or  D  or 
E  or  F.  In  fact,  there  are  no  two  things  that  are  different 
from  each  other. 

"  It  follows  that  there  is  no  diversity  and  that  there  is  only 
one  thing.  Thus  the  axiom  of  internal  relations  is  equivalent 
to  the  assumption  of  ontological  Monism  and  to  the  denial  that 
there  are  any  relations.  Wherever  we  seem  to  have  a  relation, 
this  is  really  an  adjective  of  the  whole  composed  of  terms  of  the 
supposed  relations."     {Philosophical  Essays,  p.  163.) 

In  other  words,  things  are  predicates  of  one  Thing.  It 
follows  that 


THE  NEW  KEALISM  199 

"  the  one  final  and  complete  truth  must  consist  of  a  proposition 
with  one  subject,  namely,  the  whole,  and  one  predicate.  But  as 
this  involves  distinguishing  subject  and  predicate,  as  if  they 
could  be  diverse,  even  this  is  not  quite  true."     (Ihid.  p.  164.) 

And  this  is  assuming  that  the  monist  does  not  distin- 
guish between  his  terms  and  their  nature.  If,  with  a  mis- 
guided subtlety,  he  does  distinguish  them,  then  the  same 
pitfall  awaits  him.  For  then,  not  only  do  we  have  the 
same  trouble  that  we  had  just  now  with  A  and  B,  but  the 
terms  and  their  nature  will  enter  the  relation  of  diversity 
ivith  all  its  consequences  of  infinite  regression. 

If  he  sticks  to  it  that  the  "  term  "  and  the  "  nature  "  are 
one  term,  then 

"  every  true  proposition  attributing  a  predicate  to  a  subject  is 
purely  analytic,  since  the  subject  is  its  own  whole  nature  and 
the  predicate  is  part  of  that  nature  .  .  . ;  in  that  case,  what  is 
the  bond  that  unites  predicates  into  predicates  of  one  subject? 
Any  casual  collection  of  predicates  might  be  supposed  to  com- 
pose the  subject  if  subjects  are  not  other  than  the  system  of 
their  own  predicates."     {Ihid.  p.  167.) 

Finally,  Monism  is  challenged  to  account  for 

"  the  apparent  multiplicity  of  the  real  world.  The  difficulty  is 
that  identity  in  difference  is  impossible  if  we  adhere  to  strict 
Monism.  For  identity  in  difference  involves  many  partial 
truths,  which  combine,  by  a  kind  of  mutual  give  and  take,  into 
one  whole  of  truth.  But  the  partial  truths  in  a  strict  Monism 
are  not  merely  not  quite  true;  they  do  not  subsist  at  all.  If 
there  were  such  propositions,  whether  true  or  false,  that  would 
be  plurality."     {Hid.  p.  168.) 

On  the  other  hand,  if  we  accept  the  realist's  proposal 
and  give  up  the  axiom  of  internal  relations  (if  we  give  up 
Monism), 

"  *  Identity  in  difference '  disappears :  there  is  identity  and 
there  is  difference,  and  complexes  have  some  elements  identical 
and  some  different,  but  we  are  no  longer  obliged  to  say  of  any 
pair  of  objects  that  may  be  mentioned  that  they  are  both  identi- 


200  A  DEFENCE  OF  IDEALISM 

cal  and  different  — '  in  a  sense,'  this  sense  being  something 
which  it  is  vitally  necessary  to  leave  undefined.  We  thus  get 
a  world  of  many  things,  with  relations  which  are  not  to  be 
deduced  from  a  supposed  '  nature '  or  scholastic  essence  of  re- 
lated things.  In  this  world,  whatever  is  complex  is  composed 
of  simple  related  things,  and  analysis  is  no  longer  confronted  at 
every  step  by  an  endless  regress."     (Ibid.  p.  169.) 

These  passages,  I  think,  show  that  Mr.  Eussell  has  not 
really  grasped  the  monist's  position.  The  endless  regress 
is  the  very  last  thing  that  the  monist  desires  to  give  up. 
His  insistence  on  the  endless  regress  is  sufficient  proof  that 
he  is  no  more  out  for  a  supposed  "  nature,"  or  "  scholastic 
essence,"  than  the  pluralist.  The  "  sense  "  in  which  he 
declares  two  things  to  be  both  identical  and  different  is 
something  which  it  is  "  vitally  necessary  "  to  his  theory  to 
define.  He  has  no  earthly  interest  in  shirking  the  defini- 
tion. His  sense  is  not  the  pluralist's  sense,  and  they  are 
therefore  arguing  at  cross  purposes.  His  multiplicity,  his 
difference,  refers,  or  should  refer,  always  to  appearances, 
to  the  manifestations  of  reality.  For  him,  identity  in 
difference  does  not  mean  that  two  manifestations  are  one 
manifestation,  but  that  there  is  one  reality  in  two,  or,  if 
you  like,  in  an  infinite  number  of  manifestations.  His 
Monism  may  be  wrong  or  it  may  be  right,  but  it  is  not 
self-contradictory. 

Challenged  to  account  for  the  apparent  multiplicity  of 
the  real  world,  his  answer  must  be  that  it  is  apparent,  and 
not  real,  and  that  the  world  of  appearances  is  not  the  real 
world.  When  he  is  told  that  partial  truths,  in  a  strict 
Monism,  do  not  subsist  at  all,  because  "  if  there  were  such 
propositions,  whether  true  or  false,  that  would  give  plur- 
ality," the  retort  is  obvious :  Precisely ;  it  is  incomplete- 
ness that  gives  plurality.  Plurality  is  the  expression  of 
partial  truth. 

As  for  "  the  bond  that  unites  predicates  into  predicates 
of  one  subject,"  he  might  ask,  in  his  turn,  how  there  can 


THE  NEW  REALISM  201 

be  such  a  bond  without  identity  in  difference  ?  And,  talk- 
ing of  casual  collections,  how  does  the  pluralist  propose  to 
make  his  collections  stick  ?  We  shall  see  later  on  that  he 
cannot  do  it  without  recourse  to  the  very  principle  he  re- 
pudiates. 

Still,  it  cannot  be  denied  that  a  great  deal  of  this  critique 
is  formidable.  It  is  the  heavy  artillery  of  a  ferocious 
enemy  out  to  slay.  And  I  think  it  must  be  owned,  in 
humility  and  contrition,  that  Idealism  has  brought  it  on 
itself,  by  its  increasing  "  thinness,"  its  more  and  more 
exclusive  cultivation  of  epistemology.  Hegel,  as  William 
James  admitted,  has  "thickness"  (as  Fechner  has  thick- 
ness), but  his  followers  have  persisted  in  following  the  very 
path  he  warned  them  off  —  the  narrow  way  of  abstract  in- 
tellectualism  that  leadeth  to  destruction  in  the  barren  Abso- 
lute. They  have  tried  —  as  if  their  master,  and  Kant 
before  him,  had  lived  in  vain  —  they  have  tried  to  build 
up  a  universe  out  of  those  very  categories  of  the  under- 
standing which  Hegel  himself  had  told  them  were  unfruit- 
ful. They  have  stopped  at  the  Third  Book  of  his  Logic, 
where  all  the  categories  are  rounded  up  in  the  Absolute 
Idea,  and  have  not  pursued  the  game  of  the  Triple  Dialectic 
any  further.  It  does  not  seem  to  have  occurred  to  them 
that  in  the  Logic  Hegel  is  only  getting  into  his  stride, 
and  that,  if  they  are  to  play  the  game,  they  must  go  on 
till  Nature  and  Thought  together  are  rounded  up  in  the 
Absolute  Spirit  which  is  God.  An  Absolute  as  thick,  as 
concrete  as  the  universe  itself.  Thought  itself,  which  in 
Hegel's  hands  is  alive  and  kicking,  becomes  sterile  and  mo- 
tionless under  their  treatment.^* 

Now  it  may  turn  out  that  there  is  no  such  thing  as 
Spirit ;  or  that  if  there  is  it  cannot  play  the  all-embracing 
part  assigned  to  it.  But,  anyhow,  Hegel's  assumption  of 
Spirit  made  all  the  difference  to  the  successful  working  of 
his  Dialectic ;  whereas  his  followers  distrust  the  Dialectic, 


202  A  DEFENCE  OF  IDEALISM 

and  their  tendency  has  been  to  drop  it,  and  to  drop  the  as- 
sumption in  the  interests  of  what  they  believe  to  be  a 
sounder  logic.  And  it  is  at  least  a  question  whether  their 
logic,  though  far  simpler,  is  really  sounder.  Hegel's 
"  thought-relations,"  by  whatever  unsafe  a  priori  process 
he  arrived  at  them,  really  did  relate,  because  they  are 
themselves  related,  because  they  are  moments  in  the  mani- 
festation of  Spirit,  links  between  its  immanent  and  trans- 
cendent life.  His  followers  have  turned  them  into  logical 
abstractions,  and  abstractions  are  hard,  unyielding  things, 
unsuited  to  the  rhythmic  and  elastic  play  of  Spirit.  And 
so,  having  stopped  short  where  the  Hegelian  plot  is  thinnest 
(though  Hegel's  "  Logic  "  is  still  considerably  thicker  than, 
say,  Mr.  Bradley's),  they  fall  an  easy  prey  to  any  phi- 
losophy that  takes  account  of  such  things  as  nature,  and 
life,  and  will,  and  sense,  and  passion,  and  moral  behaviour. 
Their  organic  whole  is  not  a  whole,  and  cannot  by  any 
manipulation  of  the  terms  be  made  to  do  duty  for  the 
whole.  Their  "  internal  relations  "  are  so  far  from  being 
internal  that  at  the  first  touch  of  analysis  they  seem  to 
fall  away  from  the  "  things  "  they  are  supposed  to  consti- 
tute, or  at  any  rate  to  hold  together.  Their  unity  is  not  a 
real  unity,  for  the  simple  reason  that  the  supreme  and  ulti- 
mate form  of  it,  their  Absolute,  is  not  a  real  Absolute. 

As  abstractions,  "  thought-relations  "  are  specially  vul- 
nerable to  Analytic  Logic,  which  can  be  trusted  to  produce 
off  its  own  bat  as  many  more  as  may  be  wanted  and  to 
deal  with  them  after  their  kind.  When  the  monist  asserts 
that  all  relations  are  groimded  in  the  nature  of  their  terms, 
he  starts  with  a  rash  generalization ;  and  when  he  stakes  all 
his  hopes  of  his  Absolute  on  the  dilemma  of  the  infinite 
regress  which  ensues,  his  Absolute  is  in  a  perilous  state. 
The  position  is  attackable  from  above  and  from  below. 
You  have  only  got  to  show  him  one  relation,  equally  ab- 
stract, which  is  not  grounded  in  the  nature  of  its  terms, 
and  you  have  mined  the  very  foundations  of  his  dilemma. 


THE  I^EW  KEALISM  203 

Or,  if  he  takes  his  stand  on  a  relation  that  is  so  grounded, 
then,  with  the  first  step  of  his  regress,  he  is  again  in  the 
thin  air  of  abstraction;  and  the  superstructure  of  his 
dilemma  is  exposed  to  any  opponent  who  presses  on  his 
attention  some  irreduciblj  uncontradictious  definition  of 
the  terms.  Thus  the  ingenious  analyst  "  has  "  him  either 
way.  For  it  is  clear  that,  if  the  relation  is  grounded  in 
the  terms,  and  the  terms  are  irreducible,  the  relation  itself 
is  irreducible ;  while,  if  the  relation  is  not  grounded  in  its 
terms,  it  is  irreducible  to  begin  with.  And  this  irreduci- 
bility  of  the  whole  complex  holds  up  his  regress  at  the 
start. 

Yet,  so  far  is  Monism  from  being  vanquished  that  this 
game  of  abstractions  has  one  great  and  glorious  advantage 
for  the  monist  —  two  can  play  at  it.  And,  as  we  shall  see, 
it  is  a  game  at  which  ultimately  the  realist  stands  to  lose. 

That  both  sides  are  dealing  in  abstractions  is  evident 
from  the  realist's  theory  of  the  monist's  theory  of  "  rela- 
tion." 

"  Philosophers,"  Mr.  Bertrand  Eussell  says  (and  by 
philosophers  I  think  he  means  monists),  "seem  reall3^  to 
assume  —  though  not  so  far  as  I  know,  explicitly  —  that  re- 
lations never  have  more  than  two  terms :  and  even  such  re- 
lations they  reduce  by  force  or  guile  to  predication. 
Mathematicians,  on  the  other  hand,  almost  invariably  speak 
of  relations  of  many  terms "  (Principia  Mathematica, 
p.  212)  ;  and  Mr.  Russell  both  assumes,  quite  explicitly, 
and  argues  that  a  relation  of  many  terms  is  incompatible 
with  any  monistic  theory  of  relation.  You  would  have 
thought  that,  the  wider  and  more  complex  the  ramification 
of  any  one  relation,  and  the  more  terms  you  could  rope  into 
it,  the  more  unity  would  triumph.  But  no,  you  have  only 
to  abstract  your  mind  from  the  relation  and  fasten  it  on  the 
terms  to  see  at  once  that  it  is  Pluralism  that  scores.  And 
so  it  does,  if  you  have  given  in  to  the  proposition  that  a  re- 
lation can  exist  apart  from  and  independently  of  its  terms. 


204  A  DEFENCE  OF  IDEALISM 

And  when  the  realist  has  shown  that  this  separateness 
and  independence  is  found  in  the  most  intimate  and  sacred 
of  all  relations,  the  relation  of  subject  and  predicate,  the 
conclusion  is  apparently  forced  on  you  that  the  game  of 
Monistic  Idealism  is  up.  Idealism,  seeking  unity  before 
all  things,  is  supposed  to  have  assumed  faithfulness  in  the 
union  of  subject  and  predicate.  Eealism,  on  the  look-out  i 
for  plurality,  finds,  on  the  contrary,  that  subjects  are 
polygamous  and  have  many  predicates,  while  there  never 
was  a  predicate  yet  that  could  remain  faithful  to  one  sub- 
ject for  very  long.  The  rose  is  red ;  but  so  is  the  dawn  and 
so  is  Bardolph's  nose.  And,  imless  you  adopt  the  realistic 
theory  of  universals,  you  are  in  danger  of  arguing  that  the 
nose  and  the  rose  are  not  red,  because  redness  is  not  a  rose 
nor  a  nose.  In  short,  the  relations  of  most  subjects  and 
most  predicates  are  temporary  and  fortuitous,  and  their  be- 
haviour, from  the  point  of  view  of  monism  and  monogamy, 
an  open  scandal.  Therefore,  the  pluralist  argues,  you  had 
much  better  agree  with  him  that  relations  are  irreducible 
and  independent  entities,  and  that  so  are  their  terms. 

But  there  is  no  reason  why  Monism  should  be  assumed  as 
banking  on  the  permanence  of  these  unions,  except  on  the 
further  assumption  that  it  stands  or  falls  by  the  theory  of 
internal  relations.  //  the  relation  of  subject  and  predicate 
is  grounded  in  their  nature,  clearly  the  relation  must  be 
permanent;  subjects  and  predicates  must  not  chop  and 
change. 

Now,  though  the  statements  of  certain  monists  may 
have  given  some  grounds  for  the  assumption,  it  is  not  justi- 
fied by  Monism  itself.  Monism  does  not  stand  or  fall  by 
the  doctrine  of  internal  relations.  It  stands  or  falls  by  the 
dilemma. 

That  is  to  say,  it  stands  or  falls  by  the  dilemma  involved 
in  the  opposite  theory,  the  realistic  theory  of  external  rela- 
tions ;  or  rather,  by  the  dilemma  inherent  in  the  very  idea 
of  the  thing  and  its  relations.     No  predicament,  short  of 


THE  NEW  REALISM  205 

the  double  dilemma,  will  really  serve.  Given  the  double 
dilemma,  you  are  confronted  with  the  plain  illusion  of  all 
relative  existence. 

In  chapter  ii,  page  21,  of  Mr.  Bradley's  Appearance  and 
Reality  you  will  find  Mr.  Russell's  argument  against  the 
doctrine  of  internal  relations  turned  in  precisely  the  same 
way,  with  precisely  the  same  plausibility  against  the  doc- 
trine of  external  relations. 

Thus,  even  at  this  apparently  profitless  game  of  abstrac- 
tions, the  monist  scores ;  seeing  that  the  double  dilemma, 
so  advantageous  to  him,  is  disastrous  to  his  opponent.  For 
Realism  stands  or  falls  by  its  freedom  from  dilemmas  and 
from  contradictions. 

So  what  are  we  to  say  when  on  one  page  of  the  Princi- 
pia  Mathematica  we  read :  "  The  whole  doctrine  of  sub- 
ject and  predicate  ...  is  radically  false  and  must  be 
abandoned,"  and  on  another  page,  in  that  chapter  iv  to 
which  the  context  refers  us  for  the  definition  of  "  thing  " : 
"  Every  term "  (which  is  here  equivalent  to  "  every 
thing")  "to  begin  with  is  a  logical  subject.  .  .  .  Again, 
every  term  is  immutable  and  indestructible.  What  a  term 
is,  it  is  and  no  change  can  be  conceived  in  it  which  would 
not  destroy  its  identity  and  make  it  another  term."  So 
that,  as  some  terms,  on  Mr.  Russell's  admission,  are  also 
predicates,  every  term  must  be  what  it  isn't,  contrary  to 
the  definition. 

If  a  monist  had  made  a  statement  like  that  he  would 
never  have  heard  the  last  of  it.  And  there  is  no  reason 
why  he  should  not  have  made  it,  since  the  contradiction  in- 
volved would  help  him  rather  than  not.  But  it  is  very  far 
from  helping  Mr.  Russell. 

And  if  we  go  on  we  shall  find  him  involved  in  contra- 
dictions that  would  make  the  fortune  of  a  monist.     Thus : 

"  We  shall  say  that  Socrates  is  human  is  a  proposition  having 
only  one  term ;  of  the  remaining  components  of  the  proposition 
one  is  a  verb,  the  other  is  a  predicate." 


206  A  DEFENCE  OF  IDEALISM 

It  is  implied,  then,  that  a  predicate  is  not  a  term;  yet 
in  the  preceding  paragraph,  terms  are  divided  into 
"  things  "  and  "  concepts,"  and  concepts  into  adjectives, 
or  "  predicates,"  and  relations  or  verbs.  There  may  be 
terms  that  are  not  predicates,  but  how  on  earth  can  there 
be  any  predicate  that  is  not  a  term  ? 

"  Predicates,  then,  are  concepts  other  than  verbs,  which  occur 
in  propositions  having  only  one  term  or  subject." 

For  if  two  terms  were  allowed  in  subject-predicate  propo- 
sitions there  would  be  unity  in  difference.  Therefore,  con- 
trary to  the  definition,  it  is  not  to  be. 

Again : 

"  When  a  man  occurs  in  a  proposition  {e.g.  I  met  a  man  in 
the  street)  the  proposition  is  not  about  the  concept  a  man  but 
about  something  quite  different  —  some  actual  biped,  denoted 
by  the  concept.  Thus  concepts  of  this  kind  have  meaning  in  a 
non-psychological  sense :  And  in  this  sense  when  we  say,  '  This 
is  a  man '  we  are  making  a  proposition  in  which  a  concept  is  in 
some  sense  attached  to  what  is  not  a  concept." 

We  are,  that  is  to  say,  involved  in  what,  on  a  theory  of 
immutable  and  indestructible  terms,  is  a  contradiction,  but 
is  not  a  contradiction  on  any  other  theory. 

But,  after  all,  the  analyst  has  some  uneasiness  about  this 
most  crucial  question  of  the  subject-predicate  relation. 

"  If  we  were  right  in  holding  that  '  Socrates  is  human '  is  a 
proposition  having  only  one  term,  the  is  in  this  proposition 
cannot  express  a  relation  in  the  ordinary  sense.  In  fact  sub- 
ject-predicate propositions  are  distinguished  by  just  this  non- 
relational character." 

You  see  the  realist's  implacable  hostility  to  the  subject- 
predicate  relation?  Just  because  in  it  there  lurks  a 
secret  danger  to  his  Pluralism.  Still,  Mr.  Russell  is  a 
most  honest  and  honourable  logician,  and  he  owns  very 
handsomely  that 


THE  NEW  EEALISM  207 

"nevertheless,  a  relation  between  Socrates  and  humanity  is 
certainly  implied,  and  it  is  very  diificult  to  conceive  the  propo- 
sition as  expressing  no  relation  at  all.  We  may  perhaps  say 
that  it  is  a  relation,  although  it  is  distinguished  from  other 
relations  in  that  it  does  not  permit  itself  to  be  regarded  as  an 
assertion  concerning  either  of  its  terms  indifferently,  but  only 
as  an  assertion  concerning  the  referent." 

That  is  to  say,  "  humanity  "  is  not  exemplified  in  Socra- 
tes, otherwise  it  would  be  implicated  as  a  term. 

"But  it  is  so  hard  to  know  what  is  meant  by  relation,  that 
the  whole  question  is  in  danger  of  becoming  purely  verbal." 
(Principia  Matliematica,  p.  49.) 

Hard,  indeed,  if  you  are  a  pluralistic  realist  bent  on 
eliminating  unity  at  all  costs. 

One  more  admission  of  the  analyst,  a  propos,  this  time, 
of  organic  unities,  the  existence  of  which  he  strenuously 
denies. 

"It  is  said  that  analysis  is  falsification,  that  the  complex  is 
not  equivalent  to  the  sum  of  its  constituents  and  is  changed 
when  it  is  analysed  into  these.  In  this  doctrine  .  .  .  there  is  a 
measure  of  truth  when  what  is  to  be  analysed  is  a  unity.  A 
proposition  has  a  certain  indefinable  unity,  in  virtue  of  which 
it  is  an  assertion;  and  this  is  so  completely  lost  by  analysis  that 
no  enunciation  of  constituents  will  restore  it,  even  though  itself 
be  mentioned  as  a  constituent.  There  is,  it  must  be  confessed, 
a  grave  logical  difficulty  in  this  fact,  for  it  is  difficult  not  to 
believe  that  a  whole  must  be  constituted  by  its  constituents." 

He  comforts  himself  with  the  reflection  that 

"  for  us,  however,  it  is  sufficient  to  observe  that  all  unities  are 
propositions  or  prepositional  functions,  and  that,  consequently, 
nothing  that  exists  is  a  unity."     (Jhid.  p.  467.) 

It  is,  the  monist  may  observe,  not  sufficient  for  him; 
and  he  would  point  out  that  the  consequence  is  not  so 
rigorous  as  Mr.  Russell  seems  to  think. 

Also,  I  think  he  would  suggest  that  the  whole  question  of 


208  A  DEFENCE  OF  IDEALISM 

how  Knowledge  is  possible  hangs  on  this  admitted  unity 
of  the  proposition  and  propositional  function.  How  does 
the  amazing  multiplicity  of  the  real  outside  universe  get 
itself  expressed  in  propositions  or  in  propositional  func- 
tions, if,  in  that  universe,  there  is  no  unity  to  correspond  ? 
If  the  pluralist  is  allowed  to  assume  that  every  logical 
atom  discoverable  by  his  atomistic  logic  tallies  with  or 
constitutes  an  atom  there,  why  may  not  the  monist  just  as 
well  assume  his  logical  unity  to  be  there  also  ? 

And  to  the  whole  atomistic  critique  he  might  reply :  All 
this  is  mere  analysis ;  and  you  yourself  admit  that  "  analy- 
sis of  a  whole  is  in  some  measure  falsification."  Is  it 
likely,  then,  that,  after  the  damage  you  have  inflicted  on 
my  universe,  I  shall  not  hold  you  tight  to  that  admission 
and  to  all  that  it  implies  ?  If  the  parts  of  the  whole  are 
really  its  parts,  if  they  are,  as  you  admit,  presupposed  in 
it,  "  in  a  sense  "  in  which  it  is  not  presupposed  in  them  — 
for  I  grant  you  that  "  in  a  sense  "  the  whole  is  a  "  new  " 
thing,  though  not  that  it  is  ever  a  new  "  single  term,"  ex- 
cept provisionally,  as  part  or  as  one  of  many  aggregates  in 
a  larger  whole  —  then  the  relation  of  the  whole  to  its  parts 
will  still  be  more  intimate,  more  vital,  than  anything  that 
analysis  can  show;  and  it  is  precisely  this  intimacy  and 
vitality  that  analysis  destroys.  And  surely  it  is  this 
intimacy  and  vitality  that  logic  itself  discerns  and  acknowl- 
edges when  it  is  driven  to  the  conclusion  that,  in  the  last 
analysis,  the  analysis  of  collections,  when  the  whole  is  only 
completely  specified  by  its  parts,  the  relation  is  peculiar 
and  undefinable  ?  So  peculiar  and  undefinable  that,  when 
the  precious  collection  consists  of  but  a  single  term,  we  are 
still  compelled  to  think  of  that  term  as  contained  in  a 
whole.  Does  it  not  look  as  if  the  whole  were  as  necessary 
to  the  part  as  the  parts  are  to  the  whole  ? 

As  for  your  arguments  drawn  from  multiple  relations, 
from  propositions  containing  many  more  terms  than  two, 
and  from  many  subjects  with  one  predicate  and  many 


THE  NEW  REALISM  209 

predicates  with  one  subject,  I  do  not  see  that  they  neces- 
sarily make  more  for  your  ultimate  Pluralism  than  for 
my  ultimate  Monism.  I  am  not  obliged  to  look  for  my 
unity  anywhere  short  of  the  Absolute,  Therefore  it  really 
does  not  matter  to  me  how  many  terms  a  proposition  con- 
tains, nor  how  you  distribute  and  arrange  the  relations  of 
subject  and  predicate. 

Analytic  Logic,  then,  has  not  entirely  smashed  up  even 
his  system  of  abstract  Thought-relations.  But  supposing 
that  it  had,  the  monist's  only  legitimate  concern  is  not  ab- 
stract relativity  but  concrete  relatedness,  the  bare  fact 
that  the  universe  is  contextual,  that  all  things  in  it,  that 
is  to  say,  all  things  wdthin  the  range  of  immediate  percep- 
tion and  of  logical  induction  and  deduction,  are  in  some 
way  connected,  interdependent  and  related.  Llis  claim 
that  each  is  related  to  the  Absolute  in  one  way,  the  way  of 
the  appearance  to  the  reality,  is  a  just  claim.  The  further 
claim  that  they  should  all  he  related  to  each  other  in  one 
way  is  the  suicidal  mania  of  Monism.  It  is  to  ignore  their 
place  in  the  relation.  It  is  to  tear  them  from  the  con- 
text in  which  they  appear  and  are  known,  in  which  we  are 
obliged  to  perceive  them  and  to  think  them ;  it  is  to  isolate 
them  and  thus  turn  them  into  abstractions  which  at  once 
become  the  prey  of  Analytic  Logic. 

For  every  abstraction  set  up  within  the  sphere  of  the  re- 
lated is  a  little  tin-pot  absolute. 

The  monist  is  even  worse  off  with  his  claim  that  every 
lesser  whole  should  have  the  clear,  illuminating,  pene- 
trating, truthful  quality  of  the  Whole.  For  this  is  to 
create  a  series  of  little  tin-can  wholes,  which  are  none  the 
less  isolated,  and  none  the  less  abstract  for  being  set  up  in- 
side the  relation. 

Nevertheless,  since  two  can  play  at  this  game,  it  is  with 
a  plurality  of  such  little  tin-pot  absolutes  and  such  little 
tin-can  wholes  that  the  New  Realism  builds  up  its  uni- 


210  A  DEFENCE  OF  IDEALISM 

verse.  Or,  to  be  strictly  correct,  it  is  such  a  universe  of 
little  tin-can  wholes  and  little  tin-pot  absolutes  that  it 
claims  to  have  discovered. 

Now,  there  is  no  reason  why  the  monist  (when  he  is  not 
a  Subjective  Idealist)  should  not  take  a  hand  in  this  game 
of  discovery,  too.  There  is,  in  fact,  every  reason  why  he 
should  claim  to  have  discovered,  for  his  part,  a  universe 
where  nothing  is  isolated,  nothing  is  absolute,  and  where 
nothing  is  contingent  and  conditional  that  is  not  related  in 
some  way  to  something  other  than  itself.  He  would 
do  well  to  accept  and  acknowledge  the  frank  plurality  of 
such  a  universe,  instead  of  patching  up  little  unities  and 
wholenesses  inside  it  where  unity  and  wholeness  are  not, 
and  creating  little  infinite  regressions  and  supererogatory 
dilemmas  for  himself  as  he  goes  along. 

Then,  in  the  face  of  the  infinite  regression  —  the  end- 
less chain  of  contingencies  —  that  he  finds  and  does  not 
create,  he  has  every  reason  to  plead  that  in  such  a  universe 
there  is  no  moment  of  self-subsistence;  that  it  escapes, 
from  moment  to  moment,  the  diamond-net  of  Thought; 
that  terms  should  be  every  bit  as  dependent  on  relations 
as  relations  are  on  terms ;  and  that  this  relativity  is  proved 
rather  than  disproved  by  the  pluralist's  ability  to  play 
ducks  and  drakes  with  subjects  and  predicates.  He  will 
maintain  that  "  this  is  a  purely  spectacular  universe,"  in 
the  sense  that  it  has  every  appearance  of  being  an  appear- 
ance rather  than  a  spontaneous  and  automatic  reality; 
that,  in  short,  its  relativity  cries  aloud  for  the  Absolute 
and  its  multiplicity  for  unity.  He  will  define  his  rich 
and  concrete  Absolute  as  that  which  is  not  related  to  any- 
thing other  than  itself. 

Such  an  Absolute  can  only  not  "  enter  into  relations  " 
because  it  is  all  relations  and  all  terms,  and  is  more  than 
the  sum  of  all  terms  and  all  relations.  Only  such  a  Whole 
is  absolute,  and  only  such  an  Absolute  is  the  whole. 

Thought  is  perhaps  the  thinnest  and  the  poorest  pred- 


THE  E"EW  REALISM  211 

icate  of  this  Bing-an-sich.  It  is  quite  clear  that  such  an 
Absolute  escapes  the  net  of  thought  by  so  much  as  it  is 
more  than  thought. 

Realists,  will,  of  course,  deride  the  suggestion  that  it 
escapes  the  net  of  Analytic  Logic  by  so  much.  For,  in 
one  sense,  it  does  not  escape.  Logic  can  dislocate  and  lay 
out  in  fragments  the  whole  world  of  its  appearances ;  and  I 
confess  I  do  not  see  how  the  monist  is  to  stick  it  together 
again  with  thought-relations,  or  to  round  it  up  into  one 
whole  of  Thought.  He  cannot  conjure  the  universe  out  of 
such  feeble  propositions  as  that  Thought  is  unity  and 
Unity  is  thought,  or  that  Absolute  Spirit  is  Thought  be- 
cause Thought  thinks  it.  For  on  the  same  showing  a 
pluralistic  universe  would  be  a  universe  of  thought.  The 
monist's  only  chance  is  to  abandon  his  Epistemology ;  even 
if  the  alternative  has  to  bear  the  dreadful  and  dishonoured 
name  of  Spiritualism. 


ni 

But  even  with  the  complete  abandonment  of  Episte- 
mology,  the  monist's  position  is  untenable  if  the  New 
Realism  can  make  good  its  claim  at  all  the  other  points 
along  its  admirably  defended  line.  If,  that  is  to  say,  it 
can  prove  its  own  hypothesis  of  the  independent,  self-sub- 
sistent  reality  of  the  world  as  external  to  any  and  every 
form  of  consciousness.  For  that  hypothesis,  if  made 
good,  rules  out  his  as,  to  say  the  least  of  it,  superfluous. 

Why  look  behind  the  veil  of  appearances  for  ultimate 
reality  when  there  isn't  any  veil,  when  realities  as  ulti- 
mate as  you  are  ever  likely  to  get  are  spread  out  under 
your  nose,  and  absolute  being  is  planted  out  all  round  you 
in  embarrassing  quantities  ? 

But  are  the  foundations  of  Atomistic  Eealism,  after  all, 
so  very  sure  ? 

It  is  just  possible  it  may  prove,  after  all,  more  vulner- 
able than  it  looks.  For,  to  begin  with,  it  gains  an  im- 
mense advantage  from  the  fact  that,  in  spite  of  the  in- 
fluence of  Mr.  Bertrand  Russell,  it  is  not  a  one-man  phi- 
losophy as  Hegelianism  and  Kantianism  were  one-man 
philosophies.  It  is  difficult  to  bring  criticism  to  bear  on  a 
theory  that  is  not  yet  built  up  into  a  system.  You  know 
where  you  are  in  the  Critique  of  Pure  Reason  by 
merely  looking  at  the  headings  of  the  Parts  and  Sections. 
You  can  find  your  way  from  Kant's  basement,  through 
all  his  floors,  to  his  Transcendental  attic  by  a  process  as 
simple  as  going  upstairs.  But  the  ISTew  Realists,  though 
no  doubt  they  all  have  the  same  architectural  plan  in  their 
heads,  are  not  yet  housed  under  one  roof.  The  American 
"  Symposium  of  Six  "  suggests  a  colony  of  Young  Men's 

212 


THE  NEW  REALISM  213 

Christian  Association  Huts  rather  than  a  solidly  built  and 
many-storied  house  of  thought.  The  stain  is  not  yet  dry 
on  their  walls,  and  the  corrugated  iron  is  very  new.  So 
far,  not  even  the  mathematical  philosophy  of  Mr.  Bertrand 
Eussell  is  completely  systematized.  The  timid  monist, 
wandering  among  their  scattered  habitations,  never  knows 
what  disaster  may  lurk  for  him  behind  some  door  or  win- 
dow. The  critic  of  the  'New  Eealism  has  to  arrange  it 
according  to  his  own  plan,  and  it  is  open  to  any  new  realist 
to  complain  that  his  arrangement  is  wrong. 

But  at  any  rate  it  falls  into  two  main  divisions:  its 
Critique  and  its  Construction. 

It  must  be  owned  that  its  critique  has  accomplished 
something,  if  not  quite  all  that  it  set  out  to  do.  It  has 
completely  shattered  Subjective  Idealism  or  Solipsism. 
Not  a  very  difficult  or  a  much-needed  enterprise;  and  its 
particular  success  would  be  hardly  worth  mentioning  but 
for  our  new  realists'  very  evident  and  very  naif  belief  that 
certain  arguments  fatal  to  Subjective  Idealism  are  equally 
destructive  to  idealisms  that  are  not  subjective. 

It  has  destroyed  a  great  deal  of  the  abstract  Epistemology 
that  superseded  Hegelianism,  and  it  is  hardly  likely  that 
there  will  ever  be  any  return  of  Idealism  in  precisely  that 
form.  It  may  even  be  conceded  that  in  all  probability 
there  will  be  no  return  of  Idealism  at  all  for  another  gener- 
ation, unless  the  excesses  of  the  realists  produce  a  violent 
reaction.  It  has,  in  short,  swept  away  so  much  old  rubbish 
that  any  future  Idealism  must  reap  the  benefit  of  the  space 
cleared  for  it. 

Its  constructive  half  lends  itself  to  five  subdivisions: 
The  Organon,  or  Atomistic  Logic;  the  Mathematical 
Foundations ;  the  Theory  of  Space  and  Time,  Matter  and 
Motion ;  the  Theory  of  Universals ;  the  Theory  of  Sense- 
Perception. 

For  reasons  which  will  appear  I  shall  consider  these  in 
their  reverse  order.     I  do  not  think  this  is  taking  an  unfair 


214  A  DEFENCE  OF  IDEALISM 

advantage  of  a  philosophy  which  has  not  yet  got  itself  sys- 
tematized ;  since  the  new  realists  have  declared  their  posi- 
tion to  be  impregnable  at  all  points.  In  justice  to  them, 
however,  it  should  be  remembered  that  their  theory  of 
sense-perception  rests  on  the  mathematical  foundations, 
which,  again,  rest  on  their  Atomistic  Logic.  Hence  the 
impregnability. 

It  must  be  borne  in  mind  that  Atomistic  Logic,  the  bed- 
rock of  the  entire  philosophy,  is  purely  formal. 

Now,  since  the  mathematical  foundations  are  pure,  and 
sense-perception  admittedly  is  not,  is  it  impertinent  to  ask 
how  the  one  can  be  based  upon  the  other  ?  Mind  is  not 
more  different  from  "  matter  "  than  mathematical  points 
are  from  a  point  perceived  in  an  extended  surface,  let 
alone  that  they  are  not  and  cannot  be  perceived  at  all. 
Neither  are  they  the  causes  of  sense-perception.  If  any- 
thing is  a  "  cause  "  in  the  external  world  it  is  the  be- 
haviour of  the  ultimate  constituents  of  matter  in  "  pub- 
lic "  space.  And  it  is  difficult  to  see  how  mathematical 
space  in  its  purity  and  absoluteness  can  be  in  any  sense  a 
condition  of  the  behaviour  of  matter.  Further,  on  the 
theory,  there  has  to  be,  in  any  case,  an  adjustment  of 
"  private "  spaces  to  "  public "  space.  Surely  this  is 
pretty  active  and  constructive  work  on  the  part  of  a  per- 
ceiver  who,  on  the  theory,  is  supposed  to  be  a  passive 
spectator  of  ready-made  realities  outside  himself  ? 

Again,  if  all  atomistic  realities,  even  when  they  are  re- 
lations, are  such  very  absolute,  and,  ontologically  speaking, 
self-repellent  entities,  it  is  difficult  to  conceive  how  they 
come  together  in  one  undivided  act  of  perception. 

The  realist  will,  no  doubt,  say  that  they  come  together 
because  they  are  together,  and  that  they  are  never  "  in  " 
perception  at  all ;  so  let  us  put  the  problem  in  another  form : 
How  are  they  in  their  absoluteness  and  plurality  related 
to  that  single  and  undivided  act?  When,  on  the  theory, 
the  relation  of  these  relations  is  itself  an  outside  entity? 


THE  NEW  EEALISM  215 

In  vain  the  realist  decentralizes  the  entire  performance. 
He  has  got  his  problem  at  the  periphery  instead  of  at  the 
centre,  that  is  all. 

We  know  that  his  is  not  "  naif  realism,"  like  the  realism 
of  the  bonhomme  Eeid.  It  is,  indeed,  realism  of  the  most 
highly  sophisticated  sort.  But  all  its  sophistications  do 
not  disguise  the  essential  naivete  and  dithculty  of  its  prob- 
lem. Things  aren't  as  easy  as  all  that.  The  New  Eealism 
leaves  that  problem  precisely  where  the  old  Eealism  left 
it,  for  Idealism  to  solve  as  best  it  can. 

Let  it  not  be  supposed  that  my  monist  is  a  "  naif  " 
idealist:  he  does  distinguish  between  subjective  halluci- 
nations and  objective  phenomena ;  or,  if  the  realist  likes,  be- 
tween subjective  and  objective  realities.  But  this  dis- 
tinction is,  for  the  moment,  beside  the  point.  We  are  deal- 
ing now  with  objective  realities  —  to  give  them  their  cour- 
tesy title  —  with  independent,  outside  things ;  with  the 
carpet  which  exists  in  the  room,  and  the  room  which  exists 
in  space,  whether  I  (or  my  neighbour  for  that  matter) 
are  or  are  not  in  the  room  beholding  these  existences.  The 
new  realist  is  mistaken  if  he  imagines  that  any  idealist, 
who  is  not  also  a  solipsist,  supposes  for  one  moment  that 
these  appearances  cease  by  his  absence  and  are  revived 
again  by  his  presence.  What  he  does  suppose  is  that,  if 
all  sense-perceptions  changed  or  ceased,  all  sensible  quali- 
ties would  change  or  cease  also,  and  that  if  his  ultimate  and 
absolute  Eeality,  which  he  calls  absolute  Consciousness  or 
Thought  or  Spirit,  were  to  cease,  the  whole  universe  of  its 
appearances  would  cease  with  it.  But  as,  on  his  theory, 
he  cannot  conceive  of  it  as  ceasing,  the  question  has  no 
more  significance  for  him  than  for  the  realist.  That  is  to 
say,  on  his  theory,  the  universe  will  not  and  cannot  abate 
one  pulse  of  the  energies,  one  atom,  or  one  shade  of  the 
qualities  that  for  the  realist  constitute  its  claim  to  be  con- 
sidered real,  until  it  or  any  one  of  its  essential  constitu- 
ents are  annihilated.     Idealism  does  no  violence  to  the 


216  A  DEFENCE  OF  IDEALISM 

dignity  and  decency  of  science,  or  to  the  plain  man's  sense 
of  reality.  It  leaves  all  these  matters  precisely  where  they 
were. 

But  what  does  Realism  do? 

It  divides  what  for  science  and  the  plain  man's  sense 
were  never  yet  divided.  It  joins  what  for  them  were 
never  yet  joined.  It  talks  about  irreducibles  and  unde- 
finables  where  science  and  the  plain  man  see  palpable  uni- 
ties and  relations.  It  gives  to  the  abstractions  of  its  own 
logic  a  reality  as  august  and  far  more  permanent  than  the 
solar  system.  It  perpetuates  the  old  fallacy  of  arguing 
that  what  is  outside  a  human  body  is  outside  all  conscious- 
ness, and  that  what  is  inside  human  consciousness  is  there- 
fore inside  the  human  brain.  It  swears  by  Psycho-phys- 
ical Parallelism;  yet  it  regards  consciousness  as  a  mys- 
terious and  unnecessary  spectator  of  external  events,  a 
spectator  who  only  departs  from  the  purely  passive  role  to 
manufacture  "  tertiary  "  psychic  qualities  which  have  no 
physical  parallel. 

Still,  let  us  suppose  that  it  gets  its  backing  from  the 
higher  mathematics  and  that  it  is  irrefutably  true. 

Philosophy  is  then  in  an  even  worse  position  than  it 
was  before  Kant;  faced  with  a  universe  of  realities  of 
which  an  infinite  number  are  harder  and  more  irreducible 
than  brickbats,  utterly  different  from  and  independent  of 
consciousness ;  a  universe  which  has  contrived  to  exist  by 
itself  for  infinite  ages  without  being  known,  and  super- 
latively indifferent  as  to  whether  it  ever  is  known  or  not; 
which,  at  some  moment  of  finite  time,  is  suddenly  con- 
fronted with  an  infinite  crowd  of  finite  knowers,  utterly 
unnecessary  to  its  existence,  utterly  mysterious  in  their 
origin,  yet  demanding  an  origin  by  reason  of  their  finite- 
ness. 

The  fact  of  Knowledge  becomes  once  more  the  intract- 
able problem  of  philosophy,  with  no  hope  of  tackling  it,  as 
Kant  tried  to  tackle  it,  at  the  knowing  end.     It  is  as  if 


THE  NEW  KEALISM  217 

Kant  had  been  shut  up  with  Wolf  in  Wolf's  library,  and 
had  gone  to  sleep  there  with  nobody  to  wake  him  from  his 
dogmatic  slumber.  When  the  new  realist  in  his  realism 
says  that  Kant's  slumbers,  if  everlastingly  prolonged, 
would  have  been  no  misfortune  for  the  human  race,  since 
Idealism  has  had  no  effect  on  physical  or  mental  science, 
he  is  confusing  physical  and  mental  science  with  phi- 
losophy. It  may  be  doubted  whether  the  Eealism  of  the 
twentieth  century  is  going  to  have  any  effect  on  physical 
and  mental  science  either,  seeing  that  these  have  hitherto 
managed  to  get  on  very  well  without  it ;  whereas  Realism 
owes  much  of  its  alleged  security  to  the  support  it  professes 
to  receive  from  physics  and  applied  mathematics. 

But,  before  considering  its  security,  we  must  look  closer 
at  its  treatment  of  the  problem  of  immediate  perception. 

It  is  no  longer  Berkeley's  question  of  how  realities,  hard 
as  brickbats,  contrive  to  penetrate  from  an  outside  world 
into  an  inside  consciousness  which  is  tenuous  and  tender ; 
since  on  the  theory  they  do  not  penetrate  into  conscious- 
ness at  all. 

Nor  is  it  Kant's  question  of  how  synthetic  judgments  are 
a  'priori  possible,  since  it  is  not  for  judg-ment  to  make  any 
synthesis  at  all,  but  only  to  look  on  and  constater.  So  far 
as  there  is  any  synthesis  at  all,  the  synthesis  is  performed 
with  efficiency  by  realities  themselves. 

Now,  unless  we  remember  that  this  theory  has  a  high 
mathematical  backing,  this  part  of  it  looks  almost  too 
simple  and  easy  to  be  true.  And  we  must  admit  that  there 
is  something  fascinating  and  even  plausible  in  its  sim- 
plicity and  easiness.  It  also  looks  (stated  thus  without 
reference  to  the  higher  mathematics)  as  if  it  were  a  ques- 
tion-begging theory.  Still,  it  would  be  unfair  to  press 
that  point,  as  idealists  may  claim  an  equal  right  to  isolate 
a  theory  for  observation. 

But  the  realist  is  dodging  the  issue  when  he  argTies  that 
the  existence  of  hallucinations  —  of  red  carpets  in  con- 


218  A  DEFENCE  OF  IDEALISM 

sciousness  that  are  not  in  the  room  —  is  no  objection  to  his 
theory.  It  is  an  objection,  as  we  shall  see,  and  a  fairly 
formidable  objection,  but  it  is  not  the  crucial  one.  Hal- 
lucinations, on  any  theory,  may  be  supposed  to  arise  from 
a  flaw  or  a  kink  in  the  apparatus  of  perception;  from 
something,  that  is  to  say,  abnormal.  But  the  true  crux  is 
the  normal  and  permanent  memory  image,  the  faithful 
reproduction  of  the  spectacle  that  arises  as  the  spectator's 
subjective  response  to  the  stimulus  of  those  nerve  and 
brain  cells  that  were  associated  so  mysteriously  with  his 
uninterrupted  view  of  the  original  performance.  The 
realist  cannot  say  that  this  repetition  of  the  spectacle  is 
taking  place  in  public  space,  nor  in  that  private  space 
which  is  adjustable  to  public  space.^^  Red  carpets  are  in 
his  consciousness  now,  at  any  rate ;  that  is  to  say,  they  are 
subjective  in  the  sense  that  his  memories  are  not  my  memo- 
ries or  anybody  else's  memories.  But,  though  subjective, 
they  are  spatial,  they  are  extended,  and  they  are  red.  To 
be  spatial,  then,  to  be  extended,  to  be  red,  are  not  hall- 
marks attaching  to  things  that  exist  only  outside  con- 
sciousness. They  are,  after  all,  properties  also  of  things 
that  arise  in  consciousness. 

I  think  the  new  realist  can  hardly  argue  that  memories 
arise  anywhere  else.  But  if  he  does,  he  will  get  an  infinite 
regressus  of  outside  simulacra  and  no  genuine  memory 
at  all.  Genuine  memory  should,  one  would  imagine,  be 
saturated  with  subjectivity,  and  in  the  experience  of  most 
of  us  genuine  memory  is.  I  do  not  ask  him  how  he  dis- 
tinguishes between  the  memory  of  the  spectacle  and  the 
spectacle  itself;  he  distinguishes  precisely  as  the  idealist 
distinguishes,  by  the  difference  of  the  complexes  in  which 
each  occur;  for  one  thing,  he  distinguishes  by  the  very 
saturation  which  he  ignores  as  being  of  the  essence  of 
memory.  But  I  do  ask  him  how  he  reconciles  the  fact 
of  their  common  share  in  all  so-called  primary  and  second- 
ary  qualities  with  his  theory  that  these  qualities   only 


THE  NEW  REALISM  219 

exist    independently    of    consciousness    and    outside    it. 

This  objection  cannot  be  met  by  simply  saying  that  the 
original  sense-data,  their  images  in  memory,  and  what  he 
may  call  dream-spectacles  and  hallucinations,  are  all 
equally  realities,  but  of  different  orders.  It  is  their  like- 
ness and  not  their  unlikeness  that  is  the  problem. 

Hallucinations  are  important.  In  psychology,  over 
and  over  again,  abnormal  occurrences  have  been  our  guides 
to  the  laws  and  the  significance  of  normal  behaviour.  Hal- 
lucinations, the  new  realist  says,  can  be  referred  entirely 
to  some  kink  or  flaw  in  the  apparatus  of  perception.  The 
apparatus  of  perception  can  then  produce  of  its  own 
initiative  a  very  tolerable  imitation  of  reality;  a  power 
which  it  really  ought  not  to  have  if  the  realist's  account 
of  perception  is  the  true  one.  Still,  dream-consciousness 
can  do  as  much  or  more ;  and  in  neither  case  is  perception 
of  a  real  outside  object  involved. 

But  take  hallucinations  of  the  lesser  sort,  the  temporary 
distortions  and  duplications  of  perception  which  we  are 
all  familiar  with  —  perception,  mind  you,  of  a  real  outside 
object.  These  also  are  due  to  some  kink  or  maladjust- 
ment of  the  apparatus  —  easily  corrected,  the  new  realist 
says,  by  readjustment  or  by  reference  to  the  real  object. 
The  error  is  in  the  false  judgment  of  the  perceiver.  No 
doubt;  but  the  possibility  of  correction  is  really  not  the 
point.  The  point  is  that  the  apparatus  is  important.  We 
have  here  not  the  simple  affair  of  spectator  and  spectacle 
that  Realism  supposes.  There  is  a  go-between,  a  medium. 
And  the  medium  can  distort ;  it  can  duplicate. 

We  would  not  be  aware  that  there  was  a  medium  if  it 
were  not  for  its  occasional  aberrations.  And  its  abnormal 
behaviour  is  the  clue  to  its  normal  functions. 

The  medium,  then,  distorts  or  duplicates  —  what  ?  The 
realist  says,  Not  the  real  object.  An  image  of  the  object  ? 
Realism  has  no  use  for  images  in  immediate  perception ;  it 
has  ruled  them  sternly  out.     The  appearance  of  the  object. 


220  A  DEFENCE  OF  IDEALISM 

then  ?  Realism  says  that  in  perception  the  appearance  is 
the  reality.  Agree  that  it  is  the  apparatus,  the  medium 
itself,  that  is  duplicated  or  distorted,  and  we  are  where  we 
were  before.  Perception  is  still  as  much  the  thrall  of  its 
apparatus  as  of  its  object.  If  its  duplicate  —  for  the  ex- 
periments or  accidents  which  yield  duplicates  amount  to 
its  duplication,  and  I  am  giving  Realism  the  benefit  of  any 
doubt  there  may  be  on  this  point  —  if  the  duplication  of 
the  medium  can  make  one  perceiver  perceive  two  objects; 
and  if  its  distortion  can  make  him  perceive  the  real  object 
as  if  it  were  distorted ;  if  its  correct  adjustment  is  essential 
to  his  correct  perception  of  the  object,  it  is  clear  that  his  per- 
ception of  objects,  correct  or  incorrect,  is  not  precisely 
what  you  might  call  immediate.  How  can  he  then  be 
sure  —  as  cock-sure  as  the  realist  is  —  that  he  is  perceiv- 
ing a  reality  and  not  an  appearance  ? 

And  when  we  consider  the  pure  sense-data,  those  second- 
ary qualities  which  Realism  declares  to  be,  not  warm, 
intimate  sensations,  but  objects  of  sensation,  planted  out, 
and  no  more  at  home  in  consciousness  than  the  north  pole 
is,  the  old  problems  turn  up  again  as  persistently  as  if  the 
I^ew  Realism  had  never  arisen  to  solve  them. 

For  if,  disregarding  the  apparatus  of  perception,  we 
take  the  I^ew  Realism's  primary,  secondary,  and  tertiary 
qualities  as  simply  as  it  would  have  us  take  them,  we  shall 
not  find  the  tertiary  qualities,  which  it  admits  to  be  sub- 
jective, divided  oif  from  the  secondary  or  objective  ones  as 
sharply  as  we  should  expect  on  a  theory  which  distin- 
guishes between  realities  dependent  on  consciousness  and 
realities  not  so  dependent. 

On  the  contrary,  starting  with  the  tertiary  qualities  and 
working  outwards  from  the  subjective  centre,  we  pass 
through  a  reaction  zone  of  tertiary  qualities  merging  into 
secondary,  in  a  gradation  of  shades  so  subtle  as  to  defy 
the  arbitrary  division  that  Realism  has  set  up.  The 
aesthetic  feelings,  wonder,  admiration  and  awe,  the  passions 


THE  NEW  KEALISM  221 

and  emotions,  love,  desire,  fear,  pleasure  and  displeasure, 
and  disgust  are  not  qualities  that  Realism  would  dream  of 
planting  out  in  the  objects  that  excite  them;  and  it  re- 
quires some  stretch  of  imagination  on  Idealism's  part  to 
realize  sound  and  colour,  hardness  and  heaviness  as  sense- 
data  rather  than  as  sensations.  And  it  requires  a  bigger 
stretch  still  to  plant  out  tastes  and  odours  in  the  particles 
of  matter  that  excite  them. 

But  what  about  heat  and  cold  ?  Supposing  the  idealist 
agrees  that  it  is  the  fire  that  is  hot  and  the  air  that  is 
cold,  and  not  the  idealist.  Then,  when  bv  imperceptible 
gradations  the  fire  grows  hotter  and  hotter,  and  the  air 
colder  and  colder,  and  pain  is  his  reaction  to  the  higher  in- 
tensities of  the  same  stimulus,  is  he  to  plant  out  the  pain 
into  the  fire  and  the  air  ?  I  suppose  the  realist  will  say 
he  need  plant  it  out  no  farther  than  his  own  body ;  but  even 
that  is  too  far  for  the  intimately  subjective  thing  that 
pain  seems  to  be.  Besides,  you  have  now  left  it  unsettled 
whether  the  heat  is  in  the  fire  or  in  his  body.  If  the  new 
realist  says  that,  obviously,  it  is  in  both,  then  how  about 
the  pain  ? 

How  are  you  to  distinguish  as  secondary  and  tertiary 
between  the  heat  that  is  outside  consciousness,  and  inde- 
pendent of  it,  and  the  pain  which  is  in  consciousness,  which 
without  consciousness  would  not  and  could  not  be  ? 

And  you  can  take  all  the  secondary  qualities  and  in- 
crease their  intensity  with  the  same  result.  Intense  light 
and  sound,  taste  and  odour  will  bring  about  violent  re- 
actions, your  objective  secondary  sensations  merging  into 
subjective  tertiary  agony. 

What  is  more,  your  sensation  of  primary  qualities  will 
behave  in  the  same  way.  Increase  the  heaviness  of  your 
suit-case,  or  the  impetus  of  your  contact  with  the  table, 
and  heaviness  and  hardness  will  pass  into  sensations  that 
are  not  sense-data  at  all  as  the  realist  defines  them.  The 
problem  is  not  affected  by  the  consideration  that  in  all 


222  A  DEFENCE  OF  IDEALISM 

these  instances  (notably  in  that  of  the  suit-case  and  collid- 
ing table)  your  body  is  the  medium  of  the  reaction. 
Realism  cannot  get  over  the  damning  fact  that  somehow,  at 
some  point,  the  transition  from  primary  or  secondary,  to 
tertiary,  from  outside  consciousness  to  inside  conscious- 
ness, has  been  made. 

Realism  allows  for  the  transition  from  secondary  to  pri- 
mary qualities  by  its  theory  that  extension  is  coloured  and 
can  be  perceived  as  a  sense-datum.  What  it  refuses  to 
admit,  and  cannot  account  for,  on  any  theory  (either  of 
Psycho-physical  Parallelism  or  of  reality  independent  of 
consciousness),  is  that  all  these  unbroken  transitions  taken 
together  constitute  a  very  considerable  haul  for  conscious- 
ness; while  the  performance  is  fairly  explicable  if  we 
suppose  that  consciousness  takes  over  the  whole  show. 

We  must  now  consider  the  realist's  doctrine  of  univer- 
sals,  when  it  will  be  evident  that  there  was  good  reason 
for  taking  his  theory  of  sense-perception  first.  From  their 
place  in  the  logical  programme  of  Realism  it  might  be  sup- 
posed that  the  theory  of  sense-perception  followed  from 
the  doctrine  of  universals,  as  the  doctrine  of  universals 
followed  from  the  atomistic  logic.  But  the  consequences 
are  the  other  way  about.  (Thus  in  the  chapter  on  "  The 
World  of  Universals  "  in  Mr.  Bertrand  Russell's  Prob- 
lems of  Philosophy,  you  find  the  theory  of  sense-percep- 
tion relied  on  to  support  the  theory  of  the  independent 
existence  of  a  relation  which  is  a  universal.) 

It  is  true  that  Realism  finds  its  universals  and  does  not 
create  them.  It  is  also  true  that  if  its  universals  did  not 
exist  it  would  have  had  to  invent  them.  Without  them  its 
theory  of  sense-perception  will  not  hang  together  for  a 
moment.  For,  assume  a  consciousness  that  brings  no 
bridges  with  it,  whose  sole  business  is  to  find  and  to  con- 
stater,  there  can  be  no  logical  passage  from  one  atom  of 
reality  to  another.     Perception  of  outside  reals  cries  aloud 


THE  NEW  KEALISM  223 

for  conception  of  outside  reals  in  order  to  make  both  mem- 
ory associations  and  judgments  possible.  So  the  one  is 
used  to  bolster  up  the  other. 

To  constater  is  impossible  without  concepts.  And  con- 
cepts must  be  universals  in  order  to  ensure  that  the  reality 
perceived  at  this  moment  and  in  this  space  is  the  same 
reality  which  was  perceived  the  moment  before,  or  at  any 
period  of  time  before,  or  in  another  space,  supposing  it 
to  have  changed  its  position. 

The  universal,  therefore,  must  be  out  of  time  and  out 
of  space.  It  is  that  which  has  the  same  meaning  in  all 
contexts  in  which  it  occurs. 

Universals  thus  serve  as  standards  or  tests  of  the  iden- 
tity of  reals ;  they  are  Plato's  "  patterns  laid  up  in 
heaven." 

Now  I  think  Idealism  ought  to  acknowledge  that  it  has 
no  grounds  for  quarrelling  with  the  New  Realism  here. 
It  ought  rather  to  be  grateful  to  it  for  restoring  universals 
to  their  ancient  place  of  freedom  and  purity  and  splendour. 
There  is  something  about  a  universal  that  has  always  pro- 
voked the  derision  of  the  playful  empiricist.  Bishop 
Berkeley  thought  there  was  something  downright  funny 
about  a  triangle  that  was  neither  oblique  nor  rectangle  nor 
equilateral  nor  equicrural  nor  scalenon,  but  "  aU  and  none 
of  these  at  once." 

But  it  remained  for  M.  Anatole  France  to  extract  the 
full  delicious  flavour  of  its  humour.  According  to  the 
fallen  angel  Nectaire  in  his  Discours  sur  Vhistoire  uni- 
verselle  de  Bossuet,  there  were  only  two  Schools  of  School- 
men: "  L'un  des  camps  soutenait  qu'avant  qu'il  y  eut 
des  pommes  il  y  avait  la  Pomme.  qu'avant  qu'il  y  eut 
des  papegais,  il  y  avait  le  Papegai ;  qu'avant  qu'il  y  eut 
des  moines  paillards  et  gourmands  il  y  avait  le  Moine,  la 
Paillardise  et  la  Gourmandise;  qu'avant  qu'il  y  eut  des 
pieds  et  des  culs  en  ce  monde,  le  Coup  de  pied  au  cul 
residait  de  toute  eternite  dans  le  sein  de  Dieu.     L'autre 


224  A  DEFENCE  OF  IDEALISM 

camp  repondit  que,  au  contraire  .  .  .  le  coup  de  pied  au 
cul  n'exista  qu'apres  avoir  ete  dument  donne  et  recu " 
("  Eevolte  des  Anges  "). 

Now  the  New  Eealism  certainly  saves  its  universals 
from  this  ridiculous  predicament.  There  can  be  no  ques- 
tion of  a  kick  in  the  ribs  dwelling  to  all  eternity  in  the 
bosom  of  the  Absolute ;  because,  for  the  new  realist,  there 
is  no  Absolute  and  no  bosom.  The  universal  kick  in  the 
ribs  is  itself  an  absolute ;  and  of  its  dwelling  nothing  can 
be  said  but  that  it  is  not  in  consciousness,  and  not  in  space 
or  time.  And  of  universals  out  of  their  context  nothing 
can  be  said  but  that  they  are  realities. 

But  observe  that  the  peculiar  outsideness  of  their  real- 
ity, their  independence  on  consciousness,  hangs  even  more 
on  the  realist's  theory  of  perception  than  his  theory  of 
perception  hangs  on  it.  Concepts,  that  is  to  say,  have  been 
brought  into  line  with  percepts.  Like  percepts,  they  are 
realities  over  against  consciousness.  On  the  theory,  con- 
sciousness is  simply  confronted  with  them,  and  in  their 
presence  it  ought  to  be  able  to  do  nothing  but  stare  at  them 
and  constater.     And  each  constatation  is  a  recognition. 

So  that,  in  order  to  constater^  it  has  need  of  another  uni- 
versal, confronted  with  which  it  can  do  no  more  than 
recognize  and  constater;  and  so  on,  in  as  beautiful  an 
infinite  regress  as  ever  delighted  the  heart  of  Mr.  Bradley. 

There  is  only  one  way  in  which  to  arrest  that  infinite 
regress  at  the  start,  and  make  the  universals  do  the  logical 
work  required  of  them ;  and  that  is,  not  to  drag  them  down 
from  their  high  place  in  heaven,  but  to  recognize  that  their 
heaven,  the  eternal  Kingdom  of  these  blessed  ones,  is 
within ;  that  they  are,  as  Idealism  should  have  always  held 
them  to  be,  the  work  of  Thought.  They  are  none  the  less 
august,  and  none  the  less  real,  on  that  account.  It  is 
Thought  that  is  exalted,  and  not  they  that  are  abased. 

The  New  Eealism  has  revived  a  Eealism  very  old,  older 
than  Scholasticism.     It  will  have  none  of  Aristotle's  de- 


THE  NEW  KEALISM  225 

velopment  of  the  Platonic  philosophy.  It  refuses  to  admit 
that  when  Aristotle  objected  that  the  ^iBrj  were  ahOrjTa  diSta, 
eternalized  sense-data,  he  was  playing  Plato's  game  for 
him.  It  will  not  see  that  when  he  said  Ideas  are  not  idle, 
they  have  hands  and  feet,  he  was  again  playing  Plato's 
game  and  playing  it  better,  getting  a  "  move  on  "  to  the 
Ideas,  so  as  to  make  them  do  the  twofold  work  required  of 
them,  the  work  of  logic  and  reality. 

And  consider  what  happened  later.  After  Scholastic 
Realism,  ISTominalism,  the  inevitable  reaction;  after 
l^ominalism,  Conceptualism,  the  forerunner  of  modern 
Idealism.  It  is  just  possible  that  history  may  repeat  it- 
self, and  that  after  the  New  Eealism  of  the  twentieth 
century 

But  I  am  reminded  that  our  Eealism  is  in  a  very  dif- 
ferent case.  It  is  so  securely  based  on  a  mathematical 
discovery  unknown  to  Aristotle,  unknown  to  the  Scholastics, 
unknown  to  the  Idealists  of  the  eighteenth  and  nineteenth 
centuries,  that  it  defies  avenging  time.  It  follows  (or 
should  follow)  in  one  unbroken  logical  sequence  from 
Cantor's  discovery  of  the  behaviour  of  the  Infinite, 
through  the  desired  proof  of  the  continuity  of  space  and 
time,  resolving  their  antinomies.  It  is  thus  linked  up 
w^ith  the  physical  sciences.  It  has  continued  to  do  what 
Vitalism  vainly  attempted,  "  faire  tomber  I'insurmontable 
barriere  "  and  "  rejoindre  la  science." 

"  Rejoindre  la  science !  "  To  join  hands  with  Science, 
physical  science  that  has  always  looked  askance  at  it,  that 
will  have  none  of  its  "  thinness  " —  that  (between  its  Ideal- 
isms) has  always  been  Philosophy's  passion  and  its  dream; 
the  passion  and  the  dream  which  have  produced  Material- 
ism and  Agnosticism,  Psycho-physical  Parallelism,  and  all 
the  naif  empiricisms  and  realisms. 

You  would  suppose,  then,  that  the  space  and  time  it  re- 
ceives from  the  mathematician,  purged  of  all  the  contra- 


226  A  DEFENCE  OF  IDEALISM 

dictions  and  dilemmas  of  discreteness,  would  have  some- 
thing in  common  with  the  space  in  which  extension  occurs 
and  the  time  in  which  things  happen.  For  the  truth  of 
Eealism  hangs,  in  the  last  resort,  on  the  mathematical 
solution  of  the  contradictions  and  dilemmas  of  space  and 
time.  Eealists  are  never  tired  of  reminding  us  that  we 
have  now  got  a  continuous  space  and  time  to  work  with, 
and  that  idealists  cannot  any  longer  insist  on  the  im- 
possibility of  the  passage  from  point  to  point  and  from 
instant  to  instant;  for,  as  we  have  seen,  in  infinite  space 
there  are  no  next  points,  and  in  infinite  time  there  are  no 
next  instants,  and  consequently  no  gaps. 

From  an  infinite  series  any  number  of  members  can  be 
taken  and  to  an  infinite  series  any  number  can  be  added 
without  either  diminishing  or  increasing  it. 

Does  it  not  follow,  then,  that  a  finite  series  is  not,  in 
any  sense,  part  of  an  infinite  series  ? 

This  is  a  question  for  mathematicians,  and  for  all  I 
know  it  may  be  either  so  obvious  or  so  irrelevant  that  no 
mathematician  would  dream  of  asking  it.  Therefore  I 
suggest  it  with  the  utmost  difiideuce  and  some  misgiving. 
It  does  seem  to  me  to  follow,  not  only  from  Cantor's  law,  but 
from  the  definition  of  part  and  whole,  combined  with  the 
axiom,  that  there  are  no  infinite  wholes ;  from  the  impos- 
sibility of  arguing  from  finite  to  infinite;  from  the  real- 
ist's assumption  of  the  absoluteness  of  space  and  time,  and 
the  plurality  of  absolute  spaces  and  of  times;  and  from 
the  atomistic  theory  of  the  intransigeant  and  mutually 
repellent  character  of  absolute  entities. 

And  if  it  follows,  the  bearings  on  our  problem  would 
be  very  relevant  indeed.  For,  consider.  Pure  space  and 
pure  time  are  continuous,  in  the  sense  that  between  any 
two  points  and  any  two  instants  there  is  an  infinite  num- 
ber of  points  and  of  instants ;  nor  is  there  any  other  sense 
in  which  they  could  be  continuous.  So  that,  in  an  infinite 
series  there  are  no  two  consecutive  points  or  instants. 


THE  NEW  KEALISM  227 

Now  "  between  any  two  points  "  is  surely  just  as  much 
a  relation  of  finites  as  is  the  relation  of  two  consecutive 
points ;  and  as  such  it  has  no  business  in  an  infinite  series ; 
so  that  you  cannot  speak  of  an  infinite  number  occurring 
between  any  two  points.  And  from  this  it  would  seem  to 
follow  that  an  infinite  series  is  not  a  series  at  all,  and  that 
there  can  be  no  infinite  order  of  any  sort.  Yet,  though  a 
point  has  no  magnitude,  it  has,  or  should  have,  position. 
But  how  can  it  have  position  in  a  series  (or  any  other 
order)  that  isn't  a  series  (or  any  other  order)  ;  where, 
that  is  to  say,  there  are  no  positions  that  do  not  presup- 
pose the  space  they  are  said  to  constitute  ? 

So  that  we  are  back  again  in  the  dilemma  of  the  infinite 
regress.  If  you  say  that  the  point  that  has  position  is 
the  Euclidean  point,  and  that  the  points  in  question  do 
not  have  positions,  but  that  they  are  positions,  I  do  not  see 
that  that  helps  you  out  of  the  difficulty.  For  if  points 
cannot  have  positions  where  there  are  no  positions  to  have, 
neither  can  they  be  positions  where  positions  cannot  be. 
The  contradiction  is  simply  shifted  from  the  discrete  or 
consecutive  continuity  to  the  pointless  point  or  position- 
less  position. 

Again,  a  point,  on  any  definition,  has  no  magnitude; 
therefore  it  is  indivisible;  therefore  "between  any  two 
points,"  or  any  two  instants,  will  mean  between  any  two 
indivisibles.  And  between  any  two  indivisibles  there 
must  be  some  hiatus  which,  perhaps,  we  cannot  call  spatial 
or  temporal,  since  space  and  time  are  continuous,  but  which 
must  surely  be  held  to  exist ;  so  that  in  space  composed  of 
an  infinite  number  of  points  there  must  be  an  infinite  num- 
ber of  non-spatial  gaps.  And  the  same  will  hold  good  of 
time.  And  if  this  isn't  discreteness,  I  do  not  know  what 
is.     It  is  also,  by  the  axiom,  continuity. 

It  must  be  so,  if  these  points  and  these  instants  are 
neither  to  overlap  or  coalesce,  or  otherwise  behave  like 
magnitudes. 


228  A  DEFENCE  OF  IDEALISM 

And,  again,  any  two  indivisibles  thus  separated  will  be 
finite. 

So  that  in  the  Infinite  two  fine  and  flourishing  contra- 
dictions have  broken  out,  making  six  in  all :  ( 1 )  the  con- 
tradiction of  the  infinite  regress;  (2)  the  contradiction  of 
the  non-serial  series;  (3)  the  contradiction  of  the  position- 
less  position;  (4)  the  contradiction  of  the  non-spatial 
spaces  and  non-temporal  times  (already  considered) ;  (5) 
the  contradiction  of  discrete  continuity;  and  (6)  the  con- 
tradiction of  the  finite  infinite;  contradictions  which  are 
only  to  be  avoided  by  dilemmas. 

Lastly,  on  this  system,  perception  of  the  world  of  Be- 
coming is  an  act  of  reporting,  divisible  into  an  infinite 
series  of  reports,  corresponding  to  the  infinite  series  of 
moments  constituting  the  process  of  change.  Each  atom 
in  the  moving  show  of  Becoming,  is  an  absolute  entity,  re- 
ported as  such.  It  follows  there  can  be  no  justifiable  antic- 
ipation of  events;  no  reason  why,  of  the  connections  and 
sequences  reported,  one  should  obtain  rather  than  another. 

I  have  not  seen  any  refutation  of  Mr,  Bertrand  Rus- 
sell's mathematical  metaphysics,  and  I  can  only  dimly 
imagine  the  lines  it  would  be  likely  to  take.  But  I  think 
my  idealistic  monist,  with  his  back  against  the  wall,  might 
put  up  some  such  defence  as  this. 

If  my  monist  is  right,  he  is  better  furnished  with  di- 
lemmas now  than  ever  he  was  under  his  own  ontological 
scheme.  For  if  motion  was  a  contradiction  on  the  old 
theory  of  the  infinitely  discrete,  rest  is  a  contradiction  on 
the  new  theory  of  the  continuous  infinite.  For  with  this 
sort  of  continuity  you  can  indeed  go  on;  but  you  can 
never,  never  stop. 

Positionless  position  affords  no  rest  for  either  Achilles 
or  the  tortoise. 

And  with  discrete  continuity  there  can  be  neither  mo- 
tion nor  rest.  What  could  an  idealistic  monist  wish  for 
more? 


THE  NEW  REALISM  229 

And  when  it  comes  to  finite  space  his  hope  does  not  fail 
him.  What  about  the  mile-long  line  that  contains  no 
more  points  than  the  inch-long  line  ?  The  thousandth 
part  of  the  inch-long  line  that  contains  no  fewer  points 
than  a  thousand  mile-long  line  ?  Both,  indeed,  contain- 
ing an  infinite  number.  It  looks  as  if  the  finite  contained 
infinity. 

But  no  —  that  would  be  too  good  to  be  true.  The 
monist  does  not  really  want  that  seventh  contradiction. 
His  cup  is  already  fairly  running  over. 

]^ow  it  may  be  said  that,  even  supposing  these  contra- 
dictions and  dilemmas  were  genuine  and  not  solvable  by 
Cantor's  law,  non-mathematical  monists  have  no  right  to 
assume  that  they  cannot  be  solved  by  mathematics  in  some 
way,  probably  by  calculations  involving  the  fourth  dimen- 
sion. But,  as  the  new  mathematical  logic  does  not  stop  at 
four,  but  provides  an  infinite  number  of  dimensions,  the 
monist  may  not  unreasonably  hope  to  reap  a  second  crop  of 
contradictions  and  dilemmas  from  these.  For  the  series 
of  the  dimensions  is  apparently  obtained  by  every  term  in 
the  series  of  one  dimension  itself  giving  birth  to  a  series, 
every  term  of  which  again  gives  birth  to  another  series,  and 
so  on  for  ever  and  ever,  a  new  dimension  being  generated 
with  each  series.  But  the  whole  process  of  generation  has 
its  rise  in  the  series  of  one  dimension,  in  which  my  monist 
was  supposed  to  find  his  six  fine  contradictions ;  each  series 
therefore  will  bear  within  it  some  taint  of  the  original  in- 
fection. And,  in  any  case,  if  no  finite  number  of  points  is 
any  part  of  an  infinite  series  of  points,  mathematical  logic 
itself  apparently  gives  him  the  right  to  stick  to  it  that  no 
finite  number  of  dimensions  (as  might  be  three),  can  be 
any  part  of  an  infinite  series  or  order  or  arrangement  or 
collection  of  dimensions.  So  that  three-dimensional 
space  will  be  no  part  of  infinitely  dimensional  space. 
Thus,  from  the  very  start,  he  can  catch  sight  of  his  contra- 
dictions of  the  non-serial  series,  the  non-ordered  order,  the 


230  A  DEFENCE  OF  IDEALISM 

non-collective  collection,  with  the  dilemma  of  the  finite 
infinite ;  and,  on  the  far  horizon  of  dilemmas,  on  all  fours 
with  his  positionless  positions,  the  non-dimensional  di- 
mension. 

But  suppose  my  monist  does  not  reap  his  second  crop 
of  contradictions,  or  his  first  crop  either.  Suppose  he 
really  has  no  business  to  insist  that  "  between  any  two 
points  "  in  any  series  is  a  relation  of  finites.  Suppose 
there  are  grave  mathematical  reasons  (as  for  all  I  know 
there  very  well  may  be)  why  "  between  any  two  points  " 
in  an  infinite  series  is  to  be  held,  contrary  to  all  apparent 
reason,  as  a  relation  of  infinites,  without  begging  the 
question  of  the  series  and  its  infinity.  Suppose  there  is 
no  mathematical  sense  in  which  the  discreteness  he  dis- 
covers is  to  be  thought  of,  and  that  his  harvest  fails  in 
consequence.  Is  he  therefore  obliged  to  abjure  his 
Monism  and  his  Idealism  ?  Eemember  the  unique  raison 
d'etre  of  his  strange  passion  for  contradictions  and  di- 
lemmas. He  does  not  wallow  in  contradiction  for  contra- 
diction's sake,  out  of  sheer  perversity.  He  desires  that 
the  contradiction  may  be  solved.  Therefore  he  flies  to  his 
Infinite  and  Absolute. 

In  spite  of  Hegel  and  Mr.  Bradley,  he  must  have  won- 
dered how  in  the  world  it  was  going  to  perform  its  con- 
juring trick.  Well,  if  the  higher  mathematics  really  do 
all  that  they  are  said  to  do,  they  will  have  shown  him  how. 

"  Das  Unbeschreibliche, 
Hier  ist's  gethan." 

They  may  pile  universe  on  universe  and  multiply  in- 
finities by  infinity  (on  their  own  showing  an  impossible 
operation).  He  will  hold  to  his  Monism,  maintaining,  as 
I  think  he  has  every  right  to  maintain,  that  these  purely 
mathematical  operations  have  every  mark  and  sign  of 
ideality,  of  being  "  the  work  of  Thought,"  of  some  sort 


THE  NEW  REALISM  231 

of  a  God  who  "  geometrizes  eternally."  If  the  construc- 
tions are  infinite  in  number,  from  the  sheer  monotony  of 
the  mathematical  obsession,  he  gathers  that  their  con- 
structor, their  builder  and  maker  is  one.  When  pragma- 
tists  have  twitted  him  with  the  thinness  and  poorness  of 
his  ultimate  principle  he  may  have  wondered  how  thought 
could  be  infinite  and  absolute.  ISTow  it  has  been  proved 
to  him  that  it  is  so.  If  challenged  to  show  how  the  foun- 
dations of  a  material  universe  can  be  immaterial,  he  has 
only  to  refer  his  opponent  to  Mr.  Bertrand  Russell's  Prin- 
cipia  Mathematica. 

Above  all,  he  profits  by  the  realist's  happy  thought  of  re- 
habilitating universals. 

For  these  primordial  entities,  whose  serious  and  in- 
dubitable reality  mathematical  logic  compels  him  to  be- 
lieve in,  on  whose  reality  the  material  universe  depends, 
are  immaterial.  He  has  only  got  to  fetch  them  "  in " 
from  "  outside  "  to  prove  that  the  unseen  reality  of  every 
mortal  and  material  thing  is  immaterial  and  immortal, 
having  its  habitation  out  of  space,  out  of  time.  Not  out 
of  thought;  for  its  presence  there  is  the  ground  of  all 
thinking,  the  reason  why  things  are  recognized  and  known. 
Really,  universals  are  a  priceless  haul  for  the  idealist. 
Eor  they  justify  his  distinction  between  appearance  and 
reality. 

(If  realists  will  revive  Plato,  they  must  abide  by  the 
consequences  of  his  resurrection.) 

And  when  you  have  said  that  they  are  spaceless  and 
timeless,  formless  and  immaterial,  they  remain  delight- 
fully undefined  and  undefinable.  The  least  that  can  be 
said  of  them  is  that  they  are  immaterial.  The  most  that 
can  be  said  of  them  is  that  they  endure. 

For  the  New  Realism,  after  criticising  Aristotle  so 
severely  for  his  handling  of  Plato,  condescends  to  adopt 
his  emendation  of  the  doctrine  of  the  Ideas.  It  very  prop- 
erly refuses  to  see  in  them  eternalized  duplicates,  patterns 


232  A  DEFENCE  OF  IDEALISM 

of  the  things  of  sense,  or  any  common  "  property  "  shared 
by  things.  Every  thing,  every  quality  and  relation  has 
its  own  universal ;  and  there  are  universals  of  unique  and 
solitary  things,  when,  clearly,  there  can  be  none  to  share. 
For  the  New  Eealism  white  things  do  not  partake  of 
whiteness ;  the  relation  is  not  and  cannot  be  that  of  whole 
and  part,  nor  yet  of  possession  as  Plato  maintained. 
Whiteness  is  not  white.  It  is  not  the  whiteness  of  white 
things :  it  is  the  whiteness,  the  universal  etSos  of  the  whites. 
'Now  Realism  does  well  in  thus  improving  on  the  Platonic 
doctrine  of  ideas.  You  might  suppose,  from  the  impor- 
tant distinction  that  it  makes,  that  it  regards  the  relation 
as  something  incomparably  more  subtle,  more  intimate, 
and  more  strong. 

But,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  it  does  nothing  of  the  kind.  It 
makes  the  distinction,  not  that  it  may  establish  intimate 
relations  which  would  argue  a  secret  unity,  but  that  it  may 
put  asunder  the  reality  of  whiteness  from  the  reality  of 
white,  and  bring  pluralistic  atomism  into  the  world  of 
the  universals. 

I  think  that  in  this  it  has  defeated  the  ends  of  logic, 
which  are,  after  all,  its  own  ends.  Its  failure  is  the 
monist's  opportunity. 

The  conception  of  that  sacred  communion  in  which 
aiaOrjra  partook  of  dh-q  was  Plato's  solution  of  the  everlast- 
ing problem;  it  was  an  attempt  to  escape  from  his  own 
Dualism,  the  logical  consequences  of  which  he  saw  clearly. 
The  New  Realism,  in  resuscitating  Plato,  makes  every- 
thing of  his  Dualism  and  nothing  of  his  escape.  Its  in- 
terpretation of  Plato  is  peculiar.  It  takes  from  Plato 
what  suits  its  Pluralism,  and  everything  that  will  not  fit 
into  the  programme  it  dismisses  as  a  poet's  fancy  or  the 
agreeable  jest  of  a  literary  diner-out.  Surely  Plato's 
desperate  attempt  to  round  up  all  the  ideas  in  the  one 
supreme  Idea  of  the  Good  might  have  served  as  a  reminder 


THE  NEW  REALISM  233 

that  it  is  easier  to  interpret  him  than  to  appreciate  his 
drift? 

And  Atomistic  Logic  has  prepared  the  ground  for  the 
first  idealist  who  comes  along  and  resuscitates  the  Abso- 
lute. Its  really  great  discovery  —  that  there  is  necessarily 
a  universal  of  unique  and  solitary  cases  —  turns  against 
Atomism  from  the  moment  that  the  idealist  lays  his  hands 
on  it  and  converts  it  to  his  own  use. 

For  by  no  logic  can  you  get  over  the  fact  that  things  in 
this  universe  of  ours  have  relations  and  that  relations 
relate.  If  particulars  are  related,  so  are  universals. 
Their  atoms  cannot  be  kept  apart.  They  gather  together 
to  form  logical  molecules,  which  form  bodies,  which  form 
worlds,  which  form  the  universe  of  thought.  Because 
thought  can  analyse  this  universe  into  atoms  again,  it  does 
not  follow  that  its  universe  is  not  one.  The  fact  that 
your  logical  atoms  are  free  to  enter  many  combinations  is 
no  disproof  of  their  ideal  or  spiritual  unity.  You  may 
be  pleased  to  ignore  the  incurable  tendency  of  atoms  to 
form  a  universe ;  but  you  do  not  destroy  unity  by  calling 
it  a  collection ;  though  apparently  you  thus  make  Atomistic 
Logic  an  easier  game  to  play. 

But  only  apparently.  For  when  you  insist,  as  Realism 
insists,  on  taking  the  spectacular  view  of  universals  by 
divorcing  their  reality  from  the  reality  of  thought,  you 
have  made  it  impossible  to  use  them  in  your  thinking 
with  any  spectacular  effect.  And  when  you  do  use  them, 
it  is  as  logical  counters  which  have  every  appearance  of 
being  inside  conventions  rather  than  outside  realities. 

And  it  will  not  only  be  their  absoluteness  and  separate- 
ness  that  lands  you  in  this  impossibility  of  thinking.  You 
might,  indeed,  get  over  that  difficulty  by  saying  that  you  do 
not  think,  you  only  look  on  at  a  spectacular  process  of 
thinking;  and  there  every  idealist  who  is  not  a  solipsist 
would  agree  with  you.     But  what,  in  Heaven's  name,  are 


234  A  DEFEN'CE  OF  IDEALISM 

realities,  defined  as  independent  of  any  and  every  thought, 
of  any  and  every  consciousness,  doing  in  a  process  of  think- 
ing vv^hich  is  nothing  if  not  conscious  ?  What  sort  of  spec- 
tacle will  universals  treated  as  independent  realities  pro- 
vide? Not  only  is  whiteness  not  white,  and  a  universal 
kick  in  the  ribs  not  a  kick  in  the  ribs,  but  they  have  no 
content  and  no  more  conceivable  relation  (not  even  the 
relation  of  likeness)  to  white  or  to  a  kick  in  the  ribs  than 
they  have  to  consciousness. 

The  N^ew  Realism  has  provided  another  contradiction 
for  the  idealist  to  rejoice  in  —  the  unconceived  and  un- 
conceivable concept. 

And  yet  another.  For  there  is  a  universal,  both  of 
every  actual  proposition  and  of  every  possible  proposition. 
And  the  number  of  propositions  is  infinite.  For  there  is 
a  universal  of  everything  that  exists  and  has  existed  and 
will  exist ;  and  of  everything  that  is  and  was  and  will  be 
—  from  the  infinite  number  of  physical  atoms  to  the  in- 
finite number  of  numbers  and  of  mathematical  points  and 
instants;  and  about  every  one  of  these  a  true  proposition 
may  be  made.  And  for  every  true  proposition,  made  or 
unmade,  there  is  a  false  proposition  that  denies  its  truth. 
Therefore  there  will  be  an  infinite  number  of  false  propo- 
sitions denying  the  existence  or  the  being  of  these  things. 
It  is  also  an  axiom  that  from  even  one  false  proposition 
an  infinity  of  consequences  will  follow ;  and  for  every  one 
of  these  consequences  there  is  also  a  universal.  There- 
fore, there  will  be  an  infinitely  infinite  number  of  univer- 
sals standing  for  an  infinitely  infinite  number  of  lies,  all 
equally  exalted  to  the  high  and  holy  estate  of  reality ;  all, 
in  fact,  horribly  real,  ineradically  planted  out,  since  (on 
the  theory),  as  concepts,  they  are,  whether  any  irrelevant 
person  comes  along  to  make  the  propositions  or  not;  all 
much  more  assured  of  immortality  than  any  person. 

So  that  the  realist's  pluralistic  universe  is  thick  with 
the  infinitely  infinite  numbers  of  the  non-existent.     Even 


THE  NEW  KEALISM  235 

allowing  for  the  necessary  distinction  between  being  and 
existence,  I  do  not  see  how  reality  can  be  claimed  for  these 
objects  of  conception  if  reality  has  any  meaning.  Yet 
real  they  are,  since  they  endure  in  utter  indifference  as  to 
whether  there  will  ever  be  a  couceiver  to  conceive  them. 
The  realist  can't  say :  "  Somebody's  telling  a  lie."  He 
can  only  say :  "  There's  a  lie.  Somebody's  looking  at 
it."  And  the  idealist  may  add  to  his  collection  of  con- 
tradictions this  infinity  of  unreal  realities,  which  is  worth 
all  his  other  harvests  put  together. 

Contradictions  are  fatal  to  the  realist  who  prides  him- 
self on  not  having  any.  But,  as  we  have  seen,  they  are 
meat  and  drink  to  the  idealist,  who  does  not  exalt  them  to 
the  position  of  realities.  He  has  no  use  for  the  things  of 
sense  eternalized ;  but  he  can  take  over  the  whole  show  of 
universals  in  a  bunch,  purified  from  all  taint  of  the  par- 
ticular and  the  finite.  He  can  treat  them  as  the  mysteri- 
ous entities  he  needs  to  build  up  his  universe.  Like  so 
many  absolutes  they  are  definable  only  by  negation.  They 
are  not  definable  ontologically  by  their  logical  functions. 
They  make  known,  but  they  themselves  have  no  content  by 
which  they  are  known.  They  are  not  hnowers,  they  are 
not  in  any  sense  selves.  Yet  through  their  logical  func- 
tion they  serve  as  carriers  of  the  invisible  and  impalpable 
secret  of  selfhood. 

All  this  is  exceedingly  important  for  Idealistic  Mon- 
ism. 

The  monist  must  have  had  moments  of  awful  insight 
when  he  realized  that  the  relation  of  whole  and  part  was 
not  quite  equal  to  the  strain  he  was  putting  on  it.  He 
must  have  been  aware  that  a  contradiction  and  a  dilemma 
here  would  wreck  him.  But  he  has  not  got  to  stand  or 
fall  by  that  incompetent  relation  now  that  Realism  has 
restored  universals  to  their  ancient  place  and  power. 
They  have  solved  for  him  what  must,  if  he  had  finished 


236  A  DEFENCE  OF  IDEALISM 

his  thinking,  have  become  a  dilemma  that  would  have 
finished  him. 

For,  if  he  is  honest,  he  must  have  asked  himself  how  a 
logical  function  can  at  the  same  time  be  an  objective  real- 
ity.    Novr  he  knows. 

From  the  relation  of  the  whole  and  part  it  was  not  quite 
possible  for  him  to  prove  that  things  to  be  known  per- 
fectly must  be  known  as  they  are  in  the  Absolute.  But 
he  has  only  got  to  read  his  three  fat  volumes  of  the  Hege- 
lian Logic  again  in  the  light  of  the  Logic  of  Mr.  Bertrand 
Russell  to  find  his  proof  staring  him  in  the  face.  To  be 
sure,  the  Logic  of  Hegel  has  a  thickness  you  could  cut 
with  a  knife,  and  beside  it  the  Logic  of  Mr.  Eussell  has  the 
consistency  of  fine  dust  or  of  a  thin  gruel.  But  no  matter. 
He  can  make  out  for  himself  that  universals  are  the  abso- 
lute reality  of  things.  They,  if  anything  is,  are  things 
as  they  are  in  the  Absolute.  We  do  not  know  them.  We 
only  know  their  appearances ;  yet  it  is  through  them  that 
the  things  we  do  know  are  known. 

The  idealist  has  now  got  most  of  the  things  he  wanted. 
If  his  mathematics  are  right  he  has  found  seven  contra- 
dictions in  his  opponent's  theory,  making  nine  in  all.  If 
they  are  wrong,  he  has  got  two  fairly  crucial  ones.  In 
any  case,  his  appearance  and  his  ultimate  reality  are  as 
secure  as  they  were  before  the  new  realists  attacked  them ; 
he  has  got  them  tight.  White  is  the  appearance  of  white- 
ness, and  whiteness  is  the  ultimate  reality  of  white.  And 
he  has  got  what  he  never  could  be  quite  sure  of  before  — 
their  relation.  And  if  he  has  not  got  all  the  unity  in 
multiplicity  he  wanted  he  has  enough  to  satisfy  any 
reasonable  monist.  A  universal  is  most  undeniably  one  in 
many,  and  its  appearances  are  undeniably  many  in  one. 

It  is  true  that  Analytic  Logic  rules  out  all  hope  of 
ascension  to  a  highest  universal,  on  pain  of  the  contradic- 
tion of  the  One  Subject-Predicate  combination.  It  is  true 
that  there  can  be  no  rounding  up  of  an  infinite  number  of 


THE  NEW  EEALISM  237 

realities  in  one  Ultimate  Eeality  on  the  lines  it  lays  down ; 
and  that  ultimate  reality  is,  for  it,  a  contradiction  in 
terms ;  or  rather,  every  reality  is  immediate  and  ultimate. 

This  is  where  the  ways  of  Pluralism  and  of  Monism 
part. 

But  I  think  that  it  is  here  that  the  monist  scores  with 
his  theory  of  universals  and  his  theory  of  appearance  and 
reality.  For  you  can  conceivably  round  up  an  infinite 
number  of  appearances  in  one  Eeality  if  your  one  reality 
is  the  one  and  only  Absolute.  And  if,  as  he  maintains, 
universals  are  not  realities  outside  Absolute  Spirit,  but  owe 
their  reality  to  the  very  fact  that  they  are  in  it,  that  they 
are  spiritual,  there  need  be  no  infinite  number  of  them; 
that  is  to  say,  no  infinite  progress  that  removes  his  highest 
universal  for  ever  from  his  grasp.  His  highest  universal 
will  be  Spirituality. 

He  can  now  maintain  without  any  contradiction  that 
Spirit  is  all  things,  and  that  all  things  are  Spirit.  You 
cannot  floor  him  with  his  own  distinction  between  ap- 
pearances and  reality.  There  is  appearance  and  there  is 
reality.  But  if  the  spiritual  universal  truly  is  the  reality 
of  appearances ;  if  there  is  no  other  reality  but  Spirit,  the 
appearances  cannot  assert  an  independent  unspiritual  real- 
ity of  their  own  over  against  that  universal.  Appearances 
and  reality  are  not  mutually  exclusive  opposites.  They 
are  correlatives;  and  the  distinction  between  them  falls 
inside  the  "  spirituality  "  that  includes  them  both ;  so  that 
there  will  be  no  contradiction  in  the  statement  that  Eeality 
is  its  own  appearance,  and  that  appearances  are  reality. 
But  the  realist  who  denies  the  unity  must,  also  deny  the 
distinction,  since  he  maintains  that  Eeality  appears  as  it 
is.  Whereas  the  monist  not  only  does  not  deny  the  dis- 
tinction, but  has  every  interest  in  affirming  it;  and  he 
merely  says  that  appearances  are  Eeality  as  it  appears,  and 
that  Eeality  does  not  appear  as  it  is. 

The  new  realists,  like  M.  Bergson,  aspire  to  join  hands 


238  A  DEFENCE  OF  IDEALISM 

with  Science.  They  should  remember  their  ambition 
when  they  charge  the  idealist  with  arrogance.  It  is  not 
he  but  they  who  overstep  the  modesty  of  Science.  What 
they  call  ''  realities  "  Science  and  Idealism  have  agreed  to 
call  "  phenomena."  Kobody  accuses  Science  of  reducing 
its  universe  to  one  vast  spectral  hallucination  or  infinity  of 
hallucinations.  Appearances  have  this  much  of  halluci- 
nation about  them  that  they  exist,  but  they  do  not  subsist. 
To  say  this  is  not  to  deny  the  power  and  the  glory  of 
existence. 

It  was  suggested  in  the  beginning  of  this  essay  that  if 
the  idealistic  monist  would  only  walk  humbly  and  acknowl- 
edge and  renounce  his  errors  all  might  yet  be  well  with 
him.  Hope  was  even  held  out  that  if  he  would  only  face 
the  ISTew  Realism  fairly  and  squarely,  without  any  absurd 
depreciation  of  its  strength,  by  surrendering  certain  posi- 
tions he  might  still  hold  others  better  worth  keeping. 

I  have  supposed  him  to  have  put  up  his  defence,  I  have 
even  imagined  him  advancing  on  the  enemy's  positions.  I 
might  have  made  him  show  a  more  furious  impetus  in  at- 
tack, but  not,  I  think,  a  greater  discretion  in  retirement. 
It  is  quite  clear  what  Idealistic  Monism  must  surrender  if 
it  is  to  hold  its  own  in  Philosophy. 

It  must  give  up  its  narrow  philosophy  of  Thought.  It 
must  give  up  looking  for  unities  and  identities  and  ulti- 
mate realities  where  they  are  not.  It  must  give  up  its 
faith  in  the  incompetent  relation  of  the  whole  and  part. 
It  must  admit  that  Metaphysical  Logic  is  in  need  of  re- 
form. And  it  must  admit  that  Mr.  Bertrand  Eussell  has 
reformed  it.  It  must  admit  the  existence  of  a  Pluralistic 
Universe.  It  must  admit  that  as  far  as  human  conscious- 
ness is  concerned  this  universe  is  very  largely  "  spectacu- 
lar." But  it  need  not  accept  the  Pluriverse  that  Realism 
has  thrust  upon  it. 


THE  NEW  EEALISM  239 

Above  all,  it  must  not  say  that  its  righteous  suppositions 
are  ontological  certainties. 

If  it  observes  these  precautions  it  can  hardly  lay  itself 
open  to  the  charge  of  arrogance. 

All  philosophers  are  a  little  arrogant.  But  which  is 
the  more  arrogant,  the  one  who  says,  either  dogmatically 
or  critically :  This  is  a  spectacular  universe ;  but  the  spec- 
tators do  not  count;  and  there  is  no  reality  behind  the 
scene  ?  Or  the  one  who  says :  This  universe  appears  to 
be  largely  spectacular ;  therefore  it  would  be  rather  odd  if 
there  were  not  a  reality  behind  it  ? 

If  he  goes  beyond  this  modest  speculation  it  is  because 
he  finds  himself  intimately  and  mysteriously  mixed  up 
with  the  spectacle,  like  one  of  Mr.  Russell's  ultimates,  in  "  a 
peculiar  and  undefinable  relation."  He  is,  in  fact,  part 
of  it.  He  finds  an  immaterial  reality  for  ever  behind  pre- 
cisely that  portion  of  the  spectacle  that  he  constitutes;  as 
if  a  rent  had  been  torn  in  the  scene  just  there. 

He  is  not  considered  arrogant  or  rash  when  he  con- 
cludes that  untold  millions  of  spectators,  also  mixed  up 
with  the  spectacle,  intimately  and  mysteriously,  in  a 
peculiar  and  undefinable  relation,  constitute  likewise  so 
many  spots,  as  it  were,  of  immaterial  reality  discerned  be- 
hind the  scene.  He  finds  that  these  spectators  are  mixed 
up  with  each  other  in  an  intimacy  and  a  mystery  more 
peculiar  still.  Is  he,  then,  so  very  rash  or  so  very  arro- 
gant if  he  concludes  that  the  immaterial  realities  discerned 
through  those  untold  millions  of  rents  are  spots  of  one 
immaterial  reality  that  is  continuous  behind  the  scene  ? 


vn 

THE  NEW  MYSTICISM 


There  are  certainties  and  certainties.  There  is  the 
blessed  certainty  that  two  and  two  make  four.  There  is 
the  still  more  blessed  certainty  that  if  X  is  gTeater  than 
Y  and  Y  is  greater  than  Z,  then  X  is  greater  than  Z. 

There  is  the  certainty  that  the  sun  will  rise  to-morrow. 

So  far  as  this  last  certainty  is  based  on  repeated  ex- 
periences of  sunrises,  it  is  not  a  certainty  at  all.  All  you 
can  say  is  that  what  has  happened  a  thousand  million 
times  will  happen  again  if  there  is  the  same  reason  for  its 
happening;  if,  that  is  to  say,  the  cause  or  causes  of  its 
happening  continue  to  work ;  which,  again,  can  only  happen 
so  long  as  the  conditions  of  their  working  hold  good. 
Causation  applied  to  sequences  is  a  pure  hypothesis, 
and  an  hypothesis  that  will  not  work.  And  mere  sequences 
provide  no  grounds  for  assuming  causes.  Still,  fenced 
round  with  conditions,  the  certainty  that  the  sim  will  rise 
to-morrow  is  a  reasonable  certainty. 

It  cannot  be  said  that  at  the  end  of  our  metaphysical 
quest  we  have  reached  any  such  certainty  as  this.  We 
have  not  even  established  our  contention  that  all  meta- 
physical quests  seek  the  same  end.  Pluralism  gives  the 
lie  to  our  complacent  assurance  that  their  goal  is  unity. 

Still,  we  made  out  that  all,  with  the  one  exception  of 
Pluralism,  are  out  for  unity  of  some  kind,  if  it  be  only  the 
unity  of  utter  negation.  And  Pluralism,  in  declaring  that 
immediate  reality  is  ultimate  enough  for  it,  is  out  for  ulti- 

240 


THE  NEW  MYSTICISM  241 

mate  reality.     It  even  pays  its  tribute  to  the  Absolute  in 
regarding  all  its  realities  as  absolute. 

Unity,  then,  or  Ultimate  Reality,  or  both,  are  the  ob- 
jects of  the  metaphysical  quest.  And  in  the  contest  be- 
tween the  sticklers  for  the  One  and  the  sticklers  for  the 
Many,  we  found  that  Spiritual  Monism  has  reason  on  its 
side  only  if  it  lowers  its  claim  to  something  less  than  cer- 
tainty. The  spiritual  monist  plays  high,  and  he  stands 
to  lose  more,  if  he  should  lose ;  but  he  is  still  within  the 
rigour  of  the  game. 

But  outside  these  certainties,  outside  the  rigour  of  the 
game,  and  outside  the  paths  where  reason  leads  so  cau- 
tiously, there  is  a  region  of  so-called  certainties  which  we 
have  not  yet  explored.  It  would  be  easy  to  say  of  these 
certainties  that  they  are  true  for  those  for  whom  they  are 
true,  but  that  the  claimants  are  all  agreed  both  about  their 
truth  and  about  the  way  by  which  it  is  to  be  found ;  and 
but  that  the  object  of  their  quest  is  the  object  of  the  meta- 
physical quest.  Ultimate  Reality.  They  are  so  unani- 
mous, that,  divided  as  they  are  by  centuries  and  conti- 
nents, there  is  less  distance  between  a  Christian  mystic  of 
the  thirteenth  century  and  a  Buddhist  mystic  of  the  pres- 
ent day  than  there  is,  say,  between  Mr.  Bertrand  Russell 
and  Mr.  Gilbert  Chesterton. 

They  are  the  real  plungers.  They  stake  their  lives 
upon  the  game  and  their  souls  upon  the  end  of  the  adven- 
ture. Though  they  are  many  they  go  alone,  on  a  dubious 
and  dangerous  way,  to  the  "  quiet  place,"  the  "  untrav- 
elled  country,"  the  "City  of  God,"  "The  Sorrowless 
Land." 

The  region  of  their  certainty  is  not  a  region  where  the 
laws  of  mathematics,  and  the  laws  of  nature,  and  the  laws 
of  thought  are  suspended ;  where  two  and  two  do  not  make 
four,  but  something  else;  and  where  miracles  happen. 
Miracles  are  not  by  any  means  an  essential  part  of  the 


242  A  DEFENCE  OF  IDEALISM 

mystic's  game.  Still,  he  can  give  no  rational  account  of 
his  procedure.  Eeason  does  not  reject  him  more  than  he 
rejects  reason  —  in  the  wrong  place.  In  the  place  where 
his  adventures  happen  two  and  two  do  not  exist,  and  their 
behaviour  is  irrelevant. 

But,  if  it  comes  to  that,  there  is  no  reason  why  two  and 
two  should  make  four.  They  simply  make  it.  There  is 
no  reason  why  the  mystic  should  perceive  Ultimate  Real- 
ity. He  simply  perceives  it.  Extremes  meet.  The 
pluralist's  perception  of  ultimate  reality  is  immediate.  So 
is  the  mystic's.  But,  if  the  mystic  is  right,  the  pluralist's 
reality  is  not  ultimate. 

Now,  it  cannot  be  denied  that  Mysticism  is  suspect. 
It  has  a  bad  history.  In  fact  it  has  two  histories,  an 
ancient  and  a  modern  history ;  and  it  would  be  hard  to  say 
which  of  them  is  the  worse. 

Mysticism  goes  back  to  the  most  primitive  of  primitive 
times;  it  is  part  of  our  ancestral  heritage,  of  our  sub- 
merged and  savage  past.  This  past  is  the  skeleton  in  the 
monist's  cupboard;  for  Monism  itself  is  involved  in  this 
ancient  history.  That  is  why  healthy  pluralists  and 
healthy  pragmatists  will  have  none  of  it.  They  abhor  the 
taint.  The  monist  is  always  suspected  of  some  mystical 
parti  pris.  He  is  like  a  man  with  a  history  of  drink  in 
his  family;  he  cannot  escape  the  damaging  imputation. 
Yet  it  by  no  means  follows  because  every  mystic  is  a 
monist,  that  every  monist  is  a  mystic.  It  does  not  follow 
because  the  mystic  gets  at  his  Ultimate  Eeality  by  way  of 
passion  and  vision,  that  the  monist  is  implicated  in  his 
orgies  and  hallucinations.  At  this  rate  Mr.  Bertrand  Eus- 
sell's  Prmcipia  Mathematica  should  be  gravely  compro- 
mised by  the  ancient  history  of  Sacred  Numbers. 

But  let  us  say  that  Monism  is  the  lineal  descendant  of 
Mysticism,  or  that  the  two  are  collaterals  and  have  the 
same  ancestry.     If  Mysticism  has  had  an  ancient  history, 


THE  NEW  MYSTICISM  243 

it  must  have  been  evolved.  It  must  have  become  what  it 
once  was  not.  It  cannot  now  be  what  it  once  was.  All 
the  same,  the  stages  of  its  evolution  must  be  linked  to- 
gether by  one  and  the  same  thread. 

That  thread  is  the  same  thread  that  we  found  in  tracing 
the  evolution  of  the  psyche  —  it  is  the  Will-to-live,  the 
Desire  to  have  life,  and  to  have  it  more  abundantly.  As 
the  psyche  gTows  this  desire  grows  with  it;  or  rather  it 
would  seem  to  be  the  very  mainspring  of  its  gTowth ;  any- 
how it  grows ;  it  grows  into  a  consuming  passion ;  it  passes 
beyond  physical  bounds ;  and  the  Love  of  Life  becomes  the 
Love  of  God. 

The  primitive  and  savage  form  of  it  is  the  desire  for  fer- 
tility, the  desire  to  live  and  to  make  live ;  primitive  and 
savage  Magic  (the  humble  origin  of  Mysticism  with  which 
it  is  reproached)  is  fertility  magic;  the  earliest  rites,  the 
rites  de  passage ,  the  rites  of  tribal  initiation,  of  adoles- 
cence, of  marriage,  the  funeral  rites  of  death  itself  have 
one  and  the  same  object,  to  bring  life,  to  ensure  the  viril- 
ity of  the  tribesmen.  The  ghosts  of  the  dead  must  be 
appeased  with  sacrifices  that  they  may  bring  fertility  to 
the  earth.  For  ghosts  (Miss  Jane  Harrison  is  my  au- 
thority) were  conceived  first  of  all  as  underground  things, 
as  "  germs  from  the  grave  " ;  '^'^  the  very  earliest  Greek 
vase  paintings  show  them  as  diminutive  psyches,  or  winged 
Keres  fluttering  in  a  grave-jar.  The  savage  placates  the 
ghosts  of  his  forefathers  first  of  all  that  he  may  obtain 
their  strength,  their  mana;  he  drinks  the  blood  of  human 
secrifices,  or  of  the  sacrificial  animal,  that  he  may  get 
their  life.  Later  on,  he  divines  a  god  in  the  dead  hero, 
and  in  the  form  of  the  sacrificial  animal.  In  partaking  of 
the  flesh  and  blood  of  the  animal,  he  gets  the  life  of  the 
god. 

So  far  we  seem  to  have  hardly  advanced  a  step  beyond 
savagery.  But  presently  J\Iagic  becomes  Mystery.  The 
initiate  aspires  to  union  with  the  God ;  union,  first  of  all. 


244  A  DEFENCE  OF  IDEALISM 

for  the  sake  of  fertility.  The  Lesser  Mysteries  seem  to 
have  had,  frankly,  no  other  aim.  It  is  in  the  Greater 
Mysteries  of  Eleusis,  in  the  Sacred  Marriage  and  the 
Sacred  Birth  that  the  conception  of  fertility  broadens  and 
deepens,  and  that  the  Life-Force  appears  as  the  stupendous 
and  the  divine  thing  it  is.  It  does  not  matter  whether  the 
Sacred  Marriage  was  an  actual  physical  union  between 
priest  and  priestess,  hierophant  and  initiate;  or  whether, 
as  Miss  Jane  Harrison  assures  us,  it  was  an  entirely  spir- 
itual and  symbolic  rite ;  or  whether,  again,  it  was  originally 
actual  and  physical,  and  became  spiritual  and  s^Tnbolic 
afterwards ;  or  whether  it  was  originally  spiritual  and  was 
afterwards  debased.  Miss  Harrison  seems  to  me  to  have 
proved  her  case;  the  Sacred  Marriage  that  began,  there 
can  be  little  doubt,  as  a  fertility  rite,  ends  in  the  adoration 
of  Life  itself;  and  becomes  itself  a  rite  de  passage  from 
the  Lesser  Mystery  of  the  body  to  the  Greater  Mysteries 
of  the  soul.  And  by  the  time  the  Orphics  have  taken  the 
thing  in  hand  there  is  no  doubt  as  to  what  has  happened 
and  is  happening.  The  last  and  greatest  initiation  is  ac- 
complished. The  dangerous  passage  from  the  physical  to 
the  spiritual  life  has  been  made.  No  matter  if  the  Orphic 
mystic  covered  himself  from  head  to  foot  with  white  clay, 
like  his  descendant  the  Pierrot  and  like  his  ancestor,  the 
savage  "  white-clay  man  "  of  tribal  rites  of  adolescence. 
His  whiteness  is  now  symbolic  of  the  New  Life.  It  does 
not  matter  whether  the  Orphic  always  was  or  was  not  the 
utterly  spiritual  person  his  whiteness  proclaimed  him  to 
be.  The  spiritual  life  now  appears  as  the  object  of  desire 
and  ambition ;  and  desire  and  ambition  we  have  seen  to  be 
always  in  advance  of  actual  achievement.  When  Magic 
becomes  Mystery  we  are  on  the  threshold  of  Ultimate  Real- 
ity. Henceforth  there  is  no  doubt  as  to  the  meaning  of 
the  words  "  New  Birth  "  and  "  Union  with  God." 

Now  it  is  possible  to  read  into  the  Orphic  Mysteries 
more  of  Plato  than  they  will  bear;  but  this  much  seems 


THE  NEW  MYSTICISM  245 

certain,  that  before  Plato's  time  the  sense  of  life  had 
widened  so  far  as  to  make  way  for  Platonism,  for  Neo- 
Platonism,  and  for  Christianity.  And  the  sense  of  life  be- 
comes more  and  more  the  sense  of  the  Unseen ;  the  love  of 
God  becomes  more  and  more  the  passion  for  the  Absolute. 

I  am  quite  willing  to  give  up  Neo-Platonism  to  anybody 
who  wants  to  go  for  it  on  the  grounds  that  it  carried  the 
passion  for  Godhead  to  drunken  excess.  Neo-Platonic 
Mysticism  is  a  psychological  phenomenon  like  any  other. 
It  was  the  phenomenon  you  might  expect  when  East  and 
West  were  violently  flung  together  in  the  great  melting-pot 
of  Alexandria. 

What  I  want  to  point  out  is  that,  at  the  very  finest 
period  of  Greek  civilization,  Philosophy  was  turning  from 
the  doctrines  of  the  Many :  from  the  doctrine  of  the  flux, 
and  from  the  doctrine  of  Atomism,  from  the  Pragmatic  Hu- 
manism of  the  Sophists,  to  the  doctrine  of  the  One;  and 
that  the  distinction  was  then  made  between  appearance 
and  Reality;  and  that  the  passion  for  God  and  the  meta- 
physical quest  of  the  Absolute  ran  together.  Or  rather 
the  metaphysical  hunt  was  foremost.  Thought  led  and 
passion  did  its  best  to  follow.  Those  people  who  will  have 
it  that  Monism  is  the  offshoot  of  Mysticism,  a  disease  of 
thought  reverting  to  a  savage  ancestry,  should  really  read 
their  Plato  all  over  again,  and  Aristotle  on  the  top  of  him, 
and  Plotinus  and  Philo  and  Porphyry  on  the  top  of  Aris- 
totle; when  it  may  become  clear  to  them  that  Mysticism 
owes  more  to  philosophy  than  philosophy  could  ever  owe 
to  it.  Plato  gives  a  point  now  and  then  to  pluralistic 
realism;  but  if  they  are  going  to  stretch  that  point,  and 
insist  that  Plato  was  a  Pluralist,  and  that  Aristotle,  the 
detestable  Aristotle,  was  the  accursed  thing,  all  the  better 
—  they  will  have  some  difficulty  in  bringing  home  a 
charge  of  Mysticism  against  him! 

I  would  also  suggest  that  the  primitive  savage  had  no 
monistic  prejudices;   the  more  ghosts  bestowed  on  him 


246  A  DEFENCE  OF  IDEALISM 

their  mana,  the  more  sacrificial  animals  gave  him  their  life 
to  drink,  the  more  everything  all  round  him  increased  and 
multiplied,  the  better  he  was  pleased. 

You  cannot  get  away  from  it.  The  quest  of  Ultimate 
Reality  is  as  much  a  necessity  of  thought  as  it  is  a  passion 
of  the  soul.  And  the  idea  of  the  Absolute  is  not  primitive. 
It  is  a  very  late  and  highly  "  sublimated  "  idea. 

Because  Greek  art  has  preserved  for  us  the  earliest 
origins  of  Greek  religion ;  and  because  Greek  literature 
and  Greek  philosophy  are  still  alive  among  us  at  this  day 
(thank  Heaven!),  we  are  able  to  trace  the  stages  of  this 
development  and  the  links  of  these  connections.  But  if 
you  will  read  those  Sacred  Books  of  the  East  which  the 
robust  (the  almost  too  emphatically  robust)  pragmatist  re- 
gards as  so  much  Benger's  Food  for  sick  souls,  because  he 
has  lost  his  mature  and  healthy  appetite  for  unity,  if  you 
will  read  the  Vedas  and  the  Upanishads,  and  the  commen- 
taries of  the  Vedanta,  and  the  Buddhist  Suttas,  and  the 
Texts  of  Taoism,  you  will  find  the  same  development  and 
the  same  connections.  Here  again,  thought  leads  and  the 
passion  for  the  Absolute  follows ;  until  thought  overthrows 
the  thinker;  and  thought  and  passion,  and  the  desire  of 
Life  are  consumed  (or  consummated)  in  I^irvana,  or  in 
the  "  Emptiness  and  Nothingness  "  of  the  Great  Tao. 

But  the  Old  Testament  gives  you  pause.  The  links  be- 
tween primitive  fertility  magic  and  mysticism,  between 
tribal  initiations,  rites  de  passage,  sacrificial  ritual  and 
redemption,  between  the  desire  for  physical  life  and  the 
desire  for  spiritual  life,  are  as  apparent  as  you  would  ex- 
pect them  to  be.  But  the  lead  of  thought,  the  metaphysical 
flair,  is  entirely  wanting.  The  Hebrew's  thirst  for  God 
was  a  consuming  thirst. 

"  Like  as  the  hart  panteth  after  the  water-brooks,  so  longeth  my 
soul  after  Thee,  O  God. 
My  soul  thirsteth  for  God,  even  for  the  living  God :  when  shall 
I  come  to  appear  before  God?"     (Psalm  xlii.) 


THE  NEW  MYSTICISM  247 

But  the  philoprogenitive  Jew  thought  of  God  as  the 
Creator,  the  Father.  He  never  rose  to  the  metaphysical 
conception  of  the  Absolute.  To  the  very  last,  Jehovah 
preserved  some  of  the  old  ways  of  the  tribal  deity.  He 
was  a  struggling  and  a  battling  God ;  full  of  mercy  when 
he  got  his  own  way,  and  of  vengeance  when  he  didn't.  In 
his  milder  moods  he  was  very  like  the  pragmatic  God  of 
Humanism.  The  first  Jew  who  developed  a  passion  for 
the  Absolute  was  cursed  by  his  people  and  driven  out  of 
their  synagogues.  And  if  Baruch  Spinoza  had  lived  in 
the  first  century  instead  of  the  seventeenth  they  would 
have  crucified  him. 

Still,  though  the  God  of  the  prophets  is  not  and  never 
can  be  the  Absolute,  he  is  One.  Eeligion  that  begins  in 
the  fear  of  the  supernatural  and  ends  in  the  consuming 
love  of  it,  is  the  historic  witness  to  the  passion  for  unity. 
Polytheism,  which  might  be  supposed  to  prove  the  con- 
trary, is  a  case  in  point.  Ancestor  worship,  which  seems 
to  have  been  at  the  bottom  of  the  whole  business  (fathers 
being  fertile),  gives  way  to  hero-worship.  When  the 
pantheon  is  inconveniently  crowded,  the  merging  of  the 
gods  takes  place.  The  gods  make  a  fine  show  of  multi- 
plicity when  they  are  all  gathered  together  in  one  heaven ; 
but  apparently  ^^  there  is  none  of  them  that  did  not  start 
as  a  more  or  less  single  tribal  or  local  hero.  The  most 
ancient  of  all,  the  underground  gods  of  fertility  and  life 
in  death,  were  so  indeterminate  in  person,  and  so  universal 
in  power  and  function,  as  to  count  as  one.  When  the  gods 
multiply  by  migration  of  local  heroes,  their  mysterious 
godhead  diminishes  with  their  multiplicity;  until  ulti- 
mately they  are  gathered  up  again  into  one :  one  Jehovah, 
one  Zeus,  and  practically  one  Ormuzd,  one  Mithra,  one 
Shang  Ti,  and,  where  ancestor-worship  has  persisted,  one 
Mikado. 

On  any  theory  with  a  pluralistic  bias  it  is  remarkable,  to 
say  the  least  of  it,  that  where  polytheism  is  most  rampant, 


248  A  DEFENCE  OF  IDEALISM 

as  in  India,  the  reaction  to  Pantheism  and  to  Mysticism 
has  been  strongest ;  and  that  in  J  apan,  where  ancestor-wor- 
ship has  persisted  into  civilized  times,  the  great  refuge  is 
Buddhism.  Does  it  not  look  as  if  the  inappeasable  pas- 
sion was,  and  is,  this  longing  to  escape  from  multiplicity 
and  from  the  importunity  of  ancestors,  this  refusal  to  have 
the  eternal  spaces  bewilderingly  thronged  ?  The  same 
uneasiness  is  at  the  root  of  the  craving  for  the  mystic 
union  with  God ;  and  it  is  fiercest  in  a  religion  like  Chris- 
tianity, which  is  based  on  a  metaphysical  and  moral  dual- 
ism, antagonism  between  soul  and  body  and  separation 
between  God  and  man.  It  tries  in  vain  to  bridge  the  gulf 
with  its  makeshift  doctrine  of  Incarnation  and  Atonement. 

It  would  be  absurd  to  say  that  Christian  asceticism  was 
worse  than  any  other,  but  none  has  been  more  unclean  and 
more  profane  in  its  repudiation  of  the  earth.  Christianity 
took  to  itself  the  ritual  of  the  world  it  conquered;  but  it 
refused  the  one  thing  in  that  ritual  which  was  necessary 
to  its  own  salvation  —  the  simple,  sacramental  attitude  to 
life.  In  spite  of  its  beautiful  doctrine  of  love  and  mercy 
and  pity,  it  was  instinct  with  the  spirit's  cruelty  to  the 
flesh. 

And  it  is  precisely  this  atonement  manque,  this  failure 
of  a  spiritual  religion  to  be  spiritual  enough,  that  is  at  the 
root  of  half  the  evil  and  the  sickness  and  the  suffering  of 
the  modern  world.  A  religion  spiritual  enough  to  have 
made  a  genuine  atonement  between  God  and  man  would 
have  conquered,  not  Europe  and  America  only,  but  the 
whole  world. 

But  if  such  an  ideal  can  be  conceived  without  a  meta- 
physic,  it  could  not  be  born  from  the  ruins  of  Paganism, 
and  of  a  Boman  Empire,  and  from  the  conquests  of  half- 
savage  Goths  and  Visigoths.  It  was  the  secret  thing  con- 
ceived in  the  soul  of  Christ,  that  has  its  dwelling  in  the 
prophetic  need  and  in  the  dreams  and  in  the  heart  of 
man.     But  it  is  still  waiting:  to  be  born. 


THE  NEW  MYSTICISM  249 

That  other  profoundly  unChristian  Christianity  is  im- 
portant for  our  assumption ;  for  it  is  the  unique  source  of 
the  moral  argument  which  is  the  most  serious  objection 
the  pragmatic  humanist  has  brought  against  the  monist. 
By  a  peculiar  irony  that  argument  bears  hardest  upon 
Dualism's  own  god,  the  absconding  Deity  of  historic  and 
popular  Christianity;  and  we  have  seen  that  there  is  no 
solution  of  his  moral  problem  that  does  not  land  the 
humanist  in  Monism  again. 

And,  by  yet  another  irony,  the  Christian  dogma  of  the 
Atonement  is  the  most  powerful  indictment  of  the  ab- 
sentee Almighty,  and  an  implicit  confession  that  the  God 
of  Pantheism  is  our  only  refuge. 

Monism,  I  think,  has  shown  itself  to  be  imperishable 
under  some  form  or  other,  and  to  be  about  as  much  tainted 
with  primitive  savagery  as,  say,  the  higher  mathematics. 

But  what  about  Mysticism  ? 

Mysticism  may  be  no  more  tied  to  its  ancient  history 
than  any  other  of  our  instincts  and  aptitudes,  but  it  does 
betray  a  shocking  tendency  to  revert.  At  least  Western 
Mysticism  has  betrayed  that  tendency. 

And  its  modern  history  is  every  bit  as  bad  as  its  past. 

I  know  that  one  of  the  most  distinguished  authorities  on 
Western  Mysticism,  Evelyn  Underhill,  has  assured  us 
that  this  is  not  so;  that,  though  Magic  and  Mysticism 
have  a  common  traffic  in  the  supernatural,  their  interest 
and  their  object  are  essentially  different. 

"  The  fundamental  difference  between  the  two  is  this :  magic 
wants  to  get,  mysticism  wants  to  give  — 

.  .  .  We  may  class  broadly  as  magical  all  forms  of  self-seeking 
transcendentalism.  .  .  .  The  object  of  the  thing  is  always  the 
same:  the  deliberate  exaltation  of  the  will,  till  it  transcends  its 
usual  limitations,  and  obtains  for  the  self  or  groups  of  selves 
something  which  it  or  they  did  not  previously  possess.  It  is  an 
individualistic  and  acquisitive  science.  .  .  ."  (Mysticism,  pp. 
84,  85.) 


250  A  DEFENCE  OF  IDEALISM 

This  is  no  doubt  true  in  a  sense.  It  is  also  true  that 
the  object  of  Mysticism  is  to  get  something,  and  that  all 
its  giving  is  a  means  to  getting.  The  mystic  wants  to 
get  illumination,  to  get  peace,  to  get  deliverance,  to  feed 
on  life  and  drink  life  —  to  eat  His  flesh  and  drink  His 
blood  —  to  get  spiritual  sustenance,  the  mana  of  the  God. 
The  parallel  is  very  close  indeed. 

But  there  is  this  prodigious  difference:  primitive  man 
desires  to  get  by  magic  physical  things  that,  without  it, 
would  come  to  him  of  their  own  accord,  in  due  season ; 
only  he  does  not  yet  know  that:  the  mystic  desires  to  get 
spiritual  things.  And  still  the  parallel  holds  so  far  that 
both  are  ensuring  against  possible  failure. 

And  between  these  two  regions  of  desire  and  expectation 
there  is  a  dubious  borderland:  the  region  of  the  so-called 
supernatural  powers,  of  which  the  mystic  himself  cannot 
say  whether  they  are  magical  or  spiritual:  the  power  of 
healing,  of  vision,  of  clairvoyance  and  clairaudience,  of 
control  over  matter.  This  is  the  region  where  "  miracles  " 
are  said  to  happen;  though  neither  the  believer  in  magic 
nor  the  mystic  know  what  is  really  happening.  "  It," 
whatever  "  it  "  is,  happens  in  the  East  and  West  wherever 
magic  and  mysticism  are  known  and  practised. 

The  Taoist,  the  "  Perfect  Man,"  says  Kwang-zze,  "  is 
spirit-like.  Great  lakes  might  be  boiling  about  him  and 
he  would  not  feel  their  heat;  the  Ho  and  the  Han  might 
be  frozen  up,  and  he  would  not  feel  the  cold  ...  he 
mounts  on  the  clouds  of  the  air,  and  rides  on  the  sun  and 
moon,  and  rambles  at  ease  beyond  the  four  seas." 

"  If,"  says  the  Buddhist  Sutta,  "  a  Bhikkhu  should  de- 
sire to  exercise  one  by  one  each  of  the  different  mystical 
powers,  being  one  to  become  multiform,  being  multiform 
to  become  one ;  to  become  visible,  or  to  become  invisible,  to 
go  without  being  stopped  to  the  further  side  of  a  wall  or  a 
fence  or  a  mountain,  as  if  through  air ;  to  penetrate  up  and 
down  through  solid  ground,  as  if  through  water;  to  walk 


THE  NEW  MYSTICISM  251 

on  the  water  without  dividing  it,  as  if  on  solid  ground ;  to 
travel  cross-legged  through  the  sky,  like  the  birds  on  wing ; 
to  touch  and  feel  with  the  hand  even  the  sun  and  moon, 
mighty  and  powerful  though  they  be ;  and  to  reach  in  the 
body  even  up  to  the  heaven  of  Brahma ;  ...  to  hear  with 
clear  and  heavenly  ear,  surpassing  that  of  men,  sounds 
both  human  and  celestial,  whether  far  or  near,"  there  is 
nothing  to  prevent  him ;  he  has  only  got  to  "  fulfil  all 
righteousness,"  to  be  "  devoted  to  that  quietude  of  heart 
which  springs  from  within,"  and  not  to  "  drive  back  the 
ecstasy  of  contemplation."  He  must  "  look  through 
things  " ;  he  must  be  "  much  alone."  ^^ 

Anybody  with  the  smallest  knowledge  of  abnormal  psy- 
chology will  see  that  this  is  the  region  of  telepathy,  and 
of  suggestion  and  auto-suggestion,  and  of  "  psychic  phe- 
nomena" generally.  And  nobody  with  the  slightest  in- 
tellectual caution  will  deny  that  it  is  a  region  of  the  ut- 
most uncertainty  and  danger. 

N'ow  there  is  not  one  of  the  mystic's  claims  that  is  not 
under  serious  consideration  at  the  present  day.  They 
cannot  be  settled  with  and  dismissed  at  sight  as  palpable 
absurdities.  The  things  he  calls  spiritual  and  the  things 
other  people  call  psychic  are  too  closely  platted  together  to 
be  easily  disentangled.  What  is  more,  the  belief  in  the 
supernatural,  even  Magic  itself,  have  never  died  out  of 
human  history.  Mysticism  itself,  in  some  form  or  other, 
has  never  died.  All  the  philosophy  and  all  the  science  of 
the  nineteenth  century  have  been  powerless  against  it.  So 
far  from  being  near  its  death  in  this  century,  it  seems  to 
be  approaching  a  rather  serious  revival. 

The  modern  psychologist  and  the  psycho-analyst  will 
tell  you  that  there  is  nothing  mysterious  about  this  inde- 
structibility and  persistence.  Mysticism  is  as  indestruct- 
ible as  the  human  libido,  and  as  persistent  as  human  folly ; 
and  its  revival  in  the  twentieth  century  is  precisely  what 


252  A  DEFENCE  OF  IDEALISM 

yoii  might  expect  in  an  age  in  which  neurosis  is  the  pre- 
vailing malady.  The  specialist  in  morbid  psychology  will 
tell  you  that  the  history  of  Mysticism  is  a  history  of  neu- 
rosis.'*^ He  will  point,  not  in  undue  triumph,  to  the 
saints  and  mystics  of  the  Salpetriere.  He  will  assure  you 
that  the  great  saints  and  mystics  are  in  no  better  case; 
but  that,  on  the  contrary,  the  life  of  the  religious  recluse 
provides  in  a  supreme  degree  all  the  conditions  of  the 
hysterical  neurosis ;  its  repressions  are  the  classical  repres- 
sions ;  its  results  the  classical  results.  He  will  ask  you  to 
consider  dispassionately  the  awful  record  of  ill-health  re- 
vealed in  the  lives  of  the  Saints,  and,  piling  proof  upon 
proof,  he  will  show  you  in  their  visions  and  phantasies  a 
perfect  correspondence  with  the  visions  and  phantasies  of 
the  neurotic  and  the  insane. 

And  the  sting  of  his  observations  will  be  in  their  truth. 

What  is  to  be  said  of  these  utterances  of  Saint  Teresa 
herself  ?  She  speaks  of  "  the  great  shocks  I  used  to  feel 
when  our  Lord  would  throw  me  into  these  trances."  And 
again,  "  it  is  like  a  person,  who,  having  a  rope  round  his 
neck  tries  to  breathe."  "  On  other  occasions  the  soul 
seems  to  be  in  the  utmost  extremity  of  need,  asking  itself 
and  saying.  Where  is  Thy  God  ?  "  "I  saw  myself  dying 
with  a  desire  to  see  God,  and  I  knew  not  how  to  seek  that 
life  otherwise  than  by  dying.  Certain  great  impetuosities 
of  love,  though  not  so  intolerable  as  those  of  which  I  have 
spoken  before  .  .  .  overwhelmed  me."  "  This  prayer  is 
like  the  sobbing  of  little  children,  who  seem  on  the  point 
of  choking  and  whose  disordered  senses  are  soothed  by  giv- 
ing them  to  drink."  "  Some  slight  mitigations  may  be 
had,  and  the  pain  may  pass  away  for  a  little  by  praying 
God  to  relieve  its  sufferings:  but  the  soul  sees  no  relief 
except  in  death,  by  which  it  hopes  to  attain  the  fruition  of 
its  good.  At  other  times  these  impetuosities  are  so  vio- 
lent, the  soul  can  do  neither  this  nor  anything  else;  the 
whole  body  is  contracted,  and  neither  hand  nor  foot  can  be 


THE  NEW  MYSTICISM  253 

moved :  If  the  body  be  upright  at  the  time  it  falls  down, 
as  a  thing  that  has  no  control  over  itself.  It  cannot  even 
breathe ;  all  it  does  is  to  moan  —  not  loudly,  because  it 
cannot :  its  moaning,  however,  comes  from  a  keen  sense  of 
pain."  Again,  an  angel  appears  to  her  in  a  vision.  "  I 
saw  in  his  hand  a  long  spear  of  gold,  and  at  the  iron's  end 
there  seemed  to  be  a  little  fire.  He  appeared  to  be  thrust- 
ing it  at  times  into  my  heart,  and  to  pierce  my  very  en- 
trails :  when  he  drew  it  out,  he  seemed  to  draw  them  out 
also,  and  to  leave  me  all  on  fire  with  a  great  love  of  God."  ■** 

Of  St.  Catherine  of  Genoa  it  is  said  that  "  at  times  she 
would  seem  to  have  her  mind  in  a  mill ;  and  as  if  this  mill 
were  indeed  grinding  her  soul  and  body."  "  She  would 
at  times,  when  in  the  garden,  seize  hold  of  the  thorn-cov- 
ered twigs  of  the  rose-bushes  with  both  her  hands ;  and 
would  not  feel  any  pain  while  thus  doing  it  in  a  transport 
of  mind.  She  would  also  bite  her  hands  and  burn  them, 
and  this  in  order  to  divert,  if  possible,  her  interior  op- 
pression." ^^ 

St.  John  of  the  Cross  speaks  of  "  an  intense  and  amorous 
impetus,"  answering  to  St.  Teresa's  "  impetuosities."  '^^ 
And  what  are  we  to  make  of  his  confession  that  the  ecsta- 
sies of  the  soul's  union  with  God  are  often  so  poignant  that 
they  interpenetrate  the  body  itself,  so  that  it  is  awakened 
and  partakes  of  the  soul's  passion  after  its  own  kind  ?  '^'^ 

Even  Lady  Julian  of  Norwich,  that  most  exquisite  and 
lovable  of  all  mystics,  whose  love  of  God  was  not  greater 
than  her  love  of  her  neighbour,  who  saw  "  that  each  kind 
compassion  that  man  hath  on  his  even-Christen  it  is  Christ 
in  him,"  even  Lady  Julian  was  tormented.  Her  beautiful 
soul  was  haunted  by  the  most  horrible  visions,  the  result 
of  concentrated  meditation  on  the  Passion. 

"  I  saw  the  bodily  sight  lasting  of  the  plenteous  bleeding  of 
the  Head.  The  great  drops  of  blood  fell  down  from  under  the 
Garland  like  pellets,  seeming  as  it  had  come  out  of  the  veins ; 
and  in  the  coming  out  they  were  brown-red,  for  the  blood  was 


254  A  DEFENCE  OF  IDEALISM 

full  thick;  and  in  the  spreading-abroad  they  were  bright-red; 
and  when  they  came  to  the  brows,  then  they  vanished ;  notwith- 
standing, the  bleeding  continued  till  many  things  were  seen  and 
understood.  The  fairness  and  the  lifelikeness  is  like  nothing 
but  the  same ;  the  plenteousness  is  like  to  the  drops  of  water  that 
fall  off  the  eaves  after  a  great  shower  of  rain,  that  fall  so 
thick  that  no  man  may  number  them  with  bodily  wit;  and  for 
the  roundness,  they  were  like  to  the  scale  of  herring,  in  the 
spreading  on  the  forehead.  These  three  came  to  my  mind  in  the 
time :  pellets,  for  roundness,  in  the  coming  out  of  the  blood ;  the 
scale  of  the  herring,  in  the  spreading  in  the  forehead,  for  round- 
ness; the  drops  off  eaves,  for  the  plenteousness  innumerable. 

"  This  Shewing  was  quick  and  life-like,  and  horrifying  and 
dreadful,  sweet  and  lovely."  (Revelations  of  Divine  Love,  pp. 
15,  16.) 

She  has  this  vision  of  Christ's  thirst. 

"  For  this  word  was  shewed  for  the  bodily  thirst :  the  which 
I  understood  was  caused  by  failing  of  moisture.  For  the 
blessed  flesh  and  bones  was  left  all  alone  without  blood  and 
moisture.  The  blessed  body  dried  alone  long  time  with 
wringing  of  the  nails  and  weight  of  the  body.  For  I  under- 
stood that  for  tenderness  of  the  sweet  hands  and  of  the  sweet 
feet,  by  the  greatness,  hardness,  and  grievousness  of  the  nails 
the  wounds  waxed  wide  and  the  body  sagged,  for  weight  by 
long  time  hanging.  And  (therewith  was)  piercing  and  pressing 
of  the  head,  and  binding  of  the  Crown  all  baked  with  dry 
blood,  with  the  sweet  hair  clinging,  and  the  dry  flesh,  to  the 
thorns,  and  the  thorns  to  the  flesh  drying ;  and  in  the  beginning 
while  the  flesh  was  fresh  and  bleeding,  the  continual  sitting  of 
the  thorns  made  the  wounds  wide.  And  furthermore  I  saw  that 
the  sweet  skin  and  the  tender  flesh,  with  the  hair  and  the  blood, 
was  all  raised  and  loosed  about  from  the  bone,  with  the  thorns 
where-through  it  were  rent  in  many  pieces,  as  a  cloth  that 
were  sagging,  as  if  it  would  hastily  have  fallen  off,  for  heavi- 
ness and  looseness,  while  it  had  natural  moisture.  And  that 
was  great  sorrow  and  dread  to  me:  for  methought  I  would  not 
for  my  life  have  seen  it  fall.  How  it  was  done  I  saw  not;  but 
understood  it  was  with  the  sharp  thorns  and  the  violent  and 
grievous  setting  on  of  the  Garland  of  Thorns,  unsparingly  and 
without  pity.  This  continued  awhile,  and  soon  it  began  to 
change,  and  I  beheld  and  marvelled  how  it  might  be.  And 
then  I  saw  it  was  because  it  began  to  dry,  and  stint  a  part  of 


THE  NEW  MYSTICISM  255 

the  weight,  and  set  about  the  Garland.  And  thus  it  encircled 
all  about,  as  it  were  garland  upon  garland.  The  Garland  of 
the  Thorns  was  dyed  with  the  blood,  and  that  other  garland 
(of  Blood)  and  the  head,  all  was  one  colour,  as  clotted  blood 
when  it  is  dry.  The  skin  of  the  flesh  that  shewed  (of  the  face 
and  of  the  body),  was  small-rimpled ;  with  a  tanned  colour,  like 
a  dry  board  when  it  is  aged;  and  the  face  more  brown  than 
the  body."     (Ibid.  pp.  33,  39.) 

But  the  Freudian  psychoanalyst  would  be  specially  in- 
terested in  Lady  Julian's  Vision  of  the  Fiend,  who  visited 
her  in  her  sleep. 

**  I  lay  still  till  night,  trusting  in  His  mercy,  and  then  I 
began  to  sleep.  And  in  the  sleep,  at  the  beginning,  methought 
the  Fiend  set  him  on  my  throat,  putting  forth  a  visage  full 
near  my  face,  like  a  young  man's,  and  it  was  long  and  wondrous 
lean:  I  saw  never  none  such.  The  colour  was  red  like  the  tile- 
stone  when  it  is  new-bvirnt,  with  black  spots  therein  like  black 
freckles  —  fouler  than  the  tilestone.  His  hair  was  red  as  rust, 
clipped  in  front,  with  full  locks  hanging  on  the  temples.  He 
grinned  on  me  with  a  malicious  semblance,  shewing  white 
teeth :  and  so  much  methought  it  the  more  horrible.  Body  nor 
hands  had  he  none  shapely,  but  with  his  paws  he  held  me  in 
the  throat,  and  would  have  strangled  me,  but  he  might  not." 
(Ibid.  pp.  165,  166.) 

And  I  am  afraid  pathologists  will  not  be  inclined  to 
accept  Lady  Julian's  own  interpretation  of  her  Vision  of 
the  Child  and  the  dead  body. 

"  And  in  this  time  I  saw  a  body  lying  on  the  earth,  which 
body  shewed  heavy  and  horrible,  without  shape  and  form,  as  it 
were  a  swollen  quag  of  stinking  mire.  And  suddenly  out  of 
this  body  sprang  a  full  fair  creature,  a  little  Child,  fully  shapen 
and  formed,  nimble  and  lively,  whiter  than  lily;  which  swiftly 
glided  up  into  heaven.  And  the  swollenness  of  the  body  be- 
tokeneth  great  wretchedness  of  our  deadly  flesh,  and  the  little- 
ness of  the  Child  betokeneth  the  cleanness  of  purity  in  the  soul. 
And  methought:  With  this  body  abideth  no  fairness  of  this 
Child,  and  on  this  Child  dwelleth  no  foulness  of  this  body." 
(Ibid.  pp.  160,  161.) 


256  A  DEFEE'CE  OF  IDEALISM 

When  you  remember  that  these  visions  came  to  the  mys- 
tic in  her  little  anchoress's  house  in  the  graveyard  of  the 
church  of  St.  Julian,  the  wonder  is,  not  that  they  were  so 
terrible  but  that  they  were  not  much  worse. 

And  besides  being  morbid  and  unbalanced  the  mystics 
—  not  Lady  Julian,  but  other  mystics  —  show  a  certain 
arrogance.  For  all  their  humility  and  self-surrender  they 
show  arrogance.  The  saint  is  exalted  because  she  has  won 
God's  love,  because  she  is  chosen  above  other  women  to  be 
the  Spouse  of  Christ.  The  Blessed  Angela  of  Foligno  de- 
clared that  the  Lord  had  told  her  he  loved  her  "  above  any 
other  woman  in  the  valley  of  Spoleto."  ^^  You  seldom 
hear  of  the  other  spouses,  the  other  loves.  The  attitude  is 
entirely  self-centred.  It  would  be  interesting  to  know  what 
Saint  Teresa  would  have  said  to  Lady  Julian,  or  Saint 
Catharine  of  Siena  to  the  Blessed  Angela. 

We  do  know  what  Saint  Teresa  thought  of  her  own  nuns 
when  they  had  aspirations.  In  her  normal  state  the  "  un- 
daunted daughter  of  desires  "  was  one  of  the  wisest  and 
strongest-minded  of  the  saints,  second  only  to  Saint  Catha- 
rine of  Siena  in  wisdom  and  strongmindedness  and  prac- 
tical common  sense.  She  was  suspicious  of  experiences, 
especially  of  other  people's  experiences;  and  she  owns  to 
a  profound  distrust  of  "  vision."  There  is  often  no  sign  by 
which  the  soul  can  tell  a  vision  sent  by  God  from  a  vision 
sent  by  Satan.'*^  She  recognizes  that  in  this  very  region 
of  phantasy  and  symbol  there  lie  hidden  the  deepest  pit- 
falls for  the  soul.  Therefore,  whatever  risk  she  herself 
was  prepared  to  take,  she  did  not  allow  her  nuns  to  seek 
these  adventures  —  passing  on  the  discouragement  she 
had  received  from  her  own  spiritual  directors.  Spiritual 
jealousy  —  the  last  infirmity  of  saints  —  may  have  had 
something  to  do  with  these  prohibitions ;  but  it  is  far  more 
likely  that  they  were  meant  as  safeguards  against  the  dead- 
liest perils  of  the  monastic  life.  The  spiritual  directors 
were  the  psychoanalysts  of  their  day;  and  when  a  great 


THE  NEW  MYSTICISM  257 

mystic  pleaded  that  his  or  her  case  was  exceptional  we  can 
imagine  them  replying  with  all  the  finality  of  their  science : 
There  are  no  exceptions.  And  the  modern  psychoanalyst 
argues,  with  every  show  of  reason,  thus :  If  in  nine  hun- 
dred and  ninety-nine  cases  out  of  a  thousand  the  same  s;)Tn- 
bolic  phantasy  has  been  found  to  stand  for  the  same  thing, 
how,  when  the  thousandth  case  presents  that  symbolic 
phantasy,  can  we  admit  its  plea  to  be  regarded  as  an  excep- 
tion ?  You  say  that  it  depends  on  the  context ;  and  you  are 
told  ruthlessly  that  the  context  is  the  same.  There  are  no 
exceptions.  Out  of  their  own  mouths  the  great  mystics 
stand  condemned. 

So  far  from  there  being  any  way  out  and  forwards  in 
this  direction,  it  would  seem  that  the  Mystic  Way  is  the 
surest  way  backwards  and  in.  For  two  reasons.  First, 
because  in  the  mystic  longing  and  the  mystic  union  Sub- 
limation is  still  imperfect.  The  "  libido,"  although  it  is 
transferred  from  a  human  and  bodily  object  to  a  divine  and 
spiritual  one,  is  not  transformed.  It  is  simply  "  carried 
over  "  in  a  more  or  less  unsublimated  state.  Secondly,  be- 
cause the  mystic  look  is  essentially  an  inward  one.  The 
mystic  seeks  God,  for  the  most  part,  not  in  the  outer  world 
of  art  and  science  and  action,  but  in  the  darkest  and  most 
secret  recesses  of  his  own  soul.  And  it  is  precisely  this 
darkness  and  secrecy  that  the  psychoanalyst  has  the  most 
reason  to  mistrust. 

If  anybody  could  persuade  me  that  all  was  and  is  well 
with  the  mystics  it  would  be  Miss  Evelyn  Underbill.  She 
does  not  blink  the  patent,  and  indeed  blatant,  fact  of 
"  mystical  ill-health." 

"If  we  see  in  the  mystics,  as  some  have  done,  the  sporadic 
beginning  of  a  power,  a  higher  consciousness,  towards  which 
the  race  slowly  tends;  then  it  seems  likely  enough  that  where 
it  appears  nerves  and  organs  should  suffer  under  a  stress  to 
which  they  have  not  yet  become  adapted,  and  that  a  spirit  more 
highly  organised  than  its  bodily  home  should  be  able  to  impose 


258  A  DEFENCE  OF  IDEALISM 

strange  conditions  on  the  flesh.  ...  It  is  at  least  permissible 
to  look  on  the  strange  psychological  state  common  amongst  the 
mystics  as  just  such  a  rebellion  on  the  part  of  a  normal  nervous 
and  vascular  system  against  the  exigencies  of  a  way  of  life  to 
which  it  has  not  yet  adjusted  itself."     (Mysticism,  pp.  73,  74.) 

This  is,  I  think,  broadly  and  roughly  true.  But  it 
would  be  more  closely  and  finely  true  to  say  that  the  mystic 
consciousness  presents  in  a  marked  degree  the  pathological 
phenomena  of  "  dissociation." 

M.  Janet's  account  of  the  matter  in  bis  Etat  mentale 
des  Hysteriques,  leaves  us  in  no  doubt  as  to  what  is  actu- 
ally happening  here.  He  shows  that  the  root  of  the 
neuroses  and  psychoses,  of  all  mental  maladies  in  fact,  lies 
in  dissociation:  the  break  between  one  idea,  or  group  of 
ideas,  and  its  normal  context  and  logical  connections ;  the 
cutting  off  of  one  psychic  state,  or  group  of  states,  from 
the  stream  of  consciousness  itself.  This  isolated  and  aban- 
doned tract  is  the  home  of  all  the  obsessions,  the  fixed  ideas, 
the  morbid  "  complexes  "  unearthed  by  the  psychoanalysts, 
the  day-dreams  and  phantasies  of  neurotic  and  insane  per- 
sons ;  it  is  the  home  of  lapsed  instincts  and  memories,  of 
things  forgotten  because  of  their  dreadfulness  or  simply  be- 
cause of  their  uselessness;  it  is  our  ancestral  and  racial 
territory,  the  place  of  our  forgotten  and  yet  undying  past, 
of  what  has  been  conscious  once,  and  is  no  longer  conscious. 
Portions  of  our  present  that  we  have  no  use  for  and  that 
would  only  hamper  us  are  continually  going  to  join  this 
forsaken  past.  But  if  we  are  to  keep  the  image  of  con- 
sciousness as  a  "  stream "  we  had  better  say  that  they 
sink  to  the  bottom  and  stay  there  until  some  eddy  in  the 
deep  stirs  them  up  again.  You  can  reverse  the  image,  if 
you  like,  and  think  of  consciousness  as  some  city  of  the  sea, 
raised  on  land  partly  submerged,  partly  reclaimed  from 
the  sea ;  a  sea  that  threatens  perpetually  to  overflow  the 
thresholds  of  its  palaces. 

But   (without  bothering  about  territories  and  streams 


THE  NEW  MYSTICISM  259 

and  bottoms  and  seas  and  thresholds),  the  point  to  bear  in 
mind  is  that  all  lapses  and  losses  of  a  present  memory  or 
aptitude  (barring  physical  lesion  or  decay),  all  perversions 
of  instinct  and  desire,  all  suppressions,  obsessions  and  pos- 
sessions, all  cases  of  double  or  multiple  personality,  are 
states  primarily  and  essentially  of  dissociation.  And  that 
detachment,  which  is  the  one  indispensable  condition  of 
mystical  experience,  is,  primarily  and  essentially,  a  state 
of  dissociation.  And  it  is,  as  mystics  themselves  are  per- 
fectly well  aware,  a  very  dangerous  state.  There  is  not 
one  step  of  the  "  Mystic  Way,"  from  meditation,  through 
illumination,  introversion  (contemplation  and  quiet)  to 
deliverance  and  to  ecstasy,  that  is  not  a  step  further  in  the 
process  of  dissociation.  The  mystic,  deliberately  seeking 
Ultimate  Reality,  has  left  normal  consciousness  behind 
him ;  he  has  closed  all  the  approaches  in  that  direction ;  and 
he  has  opened  doors  (another  image,  but  I  can't  help  it), 
he  has  opened  doors  to  anything  that  may  be  waiting  for 
him  below  or  beyond  the  threshold. 

He  is  out  or  "  in  "  for  a  dreadfully  perilous  adventure ; 
and  what  happens  to  him  will  depend  on  whether  this 
region  beyond  normal  consciousness  is  only  the  too  well- 
trodden  territory  of  the  past  or  also  the  "  untrodden  coun- 
try "  of  the  future.  In  the  one  case  his  mystical  expe- 
rience will  be  a  sinking  downwards  or  a  turning  back- 
wards :  in  the  other  it  may  be  a  rising  upwards  or  a  going 
on.  And  there  is  a  third  alternative  —  it  may  be  both. 
Quite  easily  it  may  be  both ;  for  we  have  now  to  do  with  a 
more  or  less  divided  and  disintegrated  personality. 

I  think  that  —  still  keeping  the  saints  and  mystics  of 
the  Salpetriere  well  in  sight  —  we  shall  find  that  there  are 
some  grounds  for  supposing  that  the  country  of  abnormal 
consciousness  stretches  forwards  as  well  as  backwards,  and 
belongs  every  bit  as  much  to  our  future  as  to  our  past. 
Our  normal,  everyday,  present  consciousness  lies  between 
what  has  been  and  what  shall  be ;  it  has  been  developed,  as 


260  A  DEFENCE  OF  IDEALISM 

we  have  seen,  by  processes  of  forgetting,  that  is  to  say  of 
dissociation,  carried  to  perfection ;  it  exists  as  it  is  now  by 
virtue  of  its  defiance  and  its  rupture  with  the  past  that  it 
suppresses  but  is  powerless  to  destroy.  So  that,  if  it  is  to 
advance  at  all  beyond  its  normal  state,  it  can  only  do  so 
by  a  process  of  detachment  or  dissociation ;  by  that  letting 
go  and  forgetting  of  the  actual,  by  that  renunciation  and 
self-surrender,  that  dying  to  live  which  is  the  secret  of  the 
mystic  life. 

Let  us  suppose  then  that  in  his  abnormal  state  the  mys- 
tic has  before  him  the  entire  range  of  the  "  Unconscious  " 
and  "  Subconscious  " ;  that  his  psyche  hovers  between  its 
old  forgotten  playground  of  the  past  and  its  unknown  play- 
ground of  the  future.  It  may  be  the  prey  and  the  victim 
of  powers,  of  instincts  and  of  memories,  which  once  served 
its  development,  and  which  have  dropped  from  it  by  dis- 
use; or  it  may  be  the  experimenter  with  undeveloped 
powers  of  which  it  is  by  no  means  the  master.  At  best  it 
can  only  advance  a  little  way,  a  very  little  way  along  the 
path  it  is  ultimately  destined  to  travel.  But  it  can  go  back 
very  easily  down  that  well-trodden  path  by  which  it  came. 
It  can  go  a  short  way,  or  even  a  fairly  long  way  and  yet 
return.  But  if  it  goes  too  far  it  is  lost ;  it  is  hopelessly 
estranged  from  itself  and  from  the  life  of  the  normal  liv- 
ing; it  is  (not  to  mince  matters)  mad. 

Or  it  may  go  up  and  down  on  the  two  paths.  And  its 
tendency  to  go  up  and  down,  or  to  go  downwards  most 
of  the  time,  and  seldom  if  ever  to  go  upward  all  the  time, 
or  even  for  very  long  at  any  one  time,  is  recorded  in  the 
confessions  of  all  the  saints. 

In  the  face  of  these  confessions  we  might  feel  suspicious 
of  our  supposition  but  for  two  things:  we  have  personal 
experience  of  psychic  "  dissociation  "  every  night  when 
we  dream ;  and  we  have  authentic  evidence  bearing  on  the 
existence  of  a  fairly  extensive  borderland,  lying  between 


THE  l^EW  MYSTICISM  261 

Magic  and  Mysticism  —  the  region  of  the  so-called 
"  psychic  powers." 

Professor  Freud  has  said  two  notable  things  about 
dreams :  "  Dreams  are  a  piece  of  the  conquered  life  of 
the  childish  soul,"  and  "  The  dream  is  a  disguised  fulfil- 
ment of  a  repressed  wish."  ^^  He  might  have  said  with 
equal  truth :  Dreams  are  a  piece  of  the  yet  unconquered 
life  of  the  soul  that  is  to  be.  Or:  The  dream  is  a  ful- 
filment of  the  repressed  desire  to  transcend  our  normal 
powers,  seeing  that  in  our  dream-consciousness  we  do 
transcend  them.  In  every  dream  adventure  we  make  ex- 
periments with  the  soul  that  is  to  be. 

If  dreaming  were  not  the  common  and  accustomed  thing 
it  is,  we  should  be  astounded  at  our  own  performances  every 
time  we  dream.  When  people  come  down  in  the  morning 
and  tell  you  that  they  have  had  a  very  remarkable  dream, 
what  they  mean  is  that  their  dreams  are  more  remarkable 
than  other  people's  dreams ;  but  it  does  not  occur  to  them 
how  remarkable  it  is  that  anybody  should  have  a  dream  at 
all. 

It  was  no  doubt  a  good  thing  for  the  race  when  it  defi- 
nitely made  up  its  mind  that  we  are  dealing  with  realities 
when  we  wake  and  with  unrealities  when  we  dream ;  but  it 
is  mainly  owing  to  this  really  very  rash  assumption  that  an 
extraordinarily  interesting  and  significant  form  of  con- 
sciousness should  have  been  left  to  the  imaginative  layman 
and  the  quack  investigator  until  the  psychoanalysts  took  it 
over.  I  am  not  forgetting  the  admirable  work  done  by  the 
Society  for  Psychical  Research.  This  has  been  mainly 
in  collecting  and  sifting  material  for  Psychology''  to  deal 
with ;  but  recent  discussion  has  tended  towards  recognition 
of  the  dream's  peculiar  and  profound  reality.^^ 

Dream  experiences  are  not  explained  by  calling  them 
hallucinations ;  nor  yet  when  we  have  named  their  cause 
"  unconscious  cerebration."     Cerebration  is  always  uncon- 


262  A  DEFENCE  OF  IDEALISM 

scious,  and  it  accompanies  and  perhaps  in  some  way  con- 
ditions waking  consciousness  too.  That  there  should  be 
inside  excitements  and  reverberations,  nerve-cells  and 
brain-cells  keeping  up  their  activity  on  their  own,  after  the 
outside  stimulus  has  ceased,  is  not  more  remarkable  than 
any  other  physical  event.  But  we  should  expect  the  psy- 
chic events  that  correspond  with  this  activity  to  be  the  faded 
images,  the  fainter  reverberations  of  waking  states;  to  be 
as  broken,  as  confused,  and  as  fantastic  as  you  please,  but 
still  to  obey  the  ordinary  fundamental  conditions  of  space 
and  time.  So  far  as  it  accounts  for  anything,  unconscious 
cerebration  might  account  for  such  a  dream-consciousness 
as  this;  but  not  for  the  dream-consciousness  we  know. 
The  unaccountable  things  are  the  conditions  of  the  dream 
itself;  the  dream-space,  the  dream-time,  the  dream-unity 
of  consciousness,  the  dream  itself.  No  amount  of  uncon- 
scious cerebration  can  explain  the  facts  that  at  one  and  the 
same  time  I  am  or  seem  to  be  several  other  persons  besides 
myself,  while  preserving  my  own  identity  in  them ;  ^^  that 
I  can  penetrate  into  walled  spaces  without  opening  doors ; 
that  I  can  arrive  at  positions  in  space  without  occupying 
intermediate  positions  in  space;  that  I  can  go  through  a 
continuous  series  of  performances,  involving  an  expendi- 
ture of  time  that  may  be  anything  between  five  hours  and 
five  days,  or,  with  suitable  breaks,  even  five  years ;  all  in 
what  proves  to  have  been  three  seconds  by  the  watch  at  my 
bedside.  In  my  nerve  and  brain  records  there  can  be  no 
memory  of  my  ever  having  done  these  things;  and  they 
cannot  well  be  explained  as  "  compounds  "  of  fragments 
of  the  things  I  have  done.  Surely  the  obvious  inference 
is  that  I  do  them,  not  in  the  space  of  waking  consciousness, 
and  not  in  three  seconds  of  watch-time,  but  in  another  space 
and  in  another  time ;  and  that  in  doing  them  '^  I "  have 
been  both  the  waking  I  and  another  more  marvellous  I, 
and  to  some  extent  others  ?  For  the  waking  I  remembers 
the  dream  experience,  though  not  always  perfectly;  and 


THE  NEW  MYSTICISM  263 

the  dream  I  remembers  parts,  at  any  rate,  of  the  waking 
experience. 

That  is  to  say,  while  preserving  selfhood,  it  has  trans- 
cended normal  consciousness. 

It  is  probable  that  racial  consciousness  is  resurgent  in  the 
dreams  even  of  normal  people,  and  that  it  plays  an  enor- 
mous part  in  the  dreams  of  neurotics  and  of  lunatics.  It 
is  probable  that  in  dreams  the  psyche  goes  backwards.  It 
is  no  less  probable,  I  think,  that,  urged  by  its  half-con- 
scious and  wholly  prophetic  need,  it  goes  forwards  too,  and 
grasps  at  and  reaches  powers  that  will  ultimately  be  its 
normal,  conscious  possession. 

And  besides  the  dream-powers,  there  are  the  other 
powers  of  the  Borderland,  the  "  psychic  "  powers  that  be- 
long to  the  world  of  Mysticism  and  Magic  and  the  occult, 
and  are  claimed  equally  by  scoundrels  and  by  saints.  Un- 
til comparatively  recent  years  they,  and  the  peculiar  form 
of  consciousness  they  involve,  were  in  the  same  case  as  the 
dream-powers ;  they  were  left  to  the  quack  practitioner  and 
the  amateur  investigator.  Most  of  us  can  remember  the 
time  when  the  existence  of  telepathy  was  not  admitted  by 
persons  who  had  a  scientific  reputation  to  take  care  of, 
and  "  suggestion  "  was  on  its  trial.  As  for  faith-healing, 
palmistry,  clairvoyance,  clair-audience,  automatism,  me- 
diumship,  and  the  rest,  they  are  still  mixed  up  with  such 
fraud  and  humbug  and  silliness,  and  with  persons  so  dis- 
graceful, so  discredited,  so  absurd,  that  it  is  not  easy  to 
write  about  them  in  a  work  that  is,  at  any  rate,  trying  to  be 
serious.  I  feel  (to  be  disgustingly  egoistic)  that  any  repu- 
tation I  may  have  is  already  so  imperilled  by  my  devout  ad- 
hesion to  the  Absolute  that  I  simply  cannot  afford  to  be 
suspected  of  tenderness,  or  even  toleration  for  the  pro- 
fessors of  the  occult.  The  Society  for  Psychical  Ee- 
search  may  be  trusted  to  deal  appropriately  with  unor- 
ganized imposture;  but  the  organized  variety  is  another 


264  A  DEFENCE  OE  IDEALISM 

matter.  And  there  are  at  least  two  organizations  wliich 
seem  to  be  beyond  the  power  of  any  Society,  or  of  any  Gov- 
ernment or  State  to  control  them  —  Theosophy  and  Chris- 
tian Science. 

They  are  dangerous,  not  because  they  have  had  an  ancient 
history,  but  because  they  have  had  and  are  having  a  modern 
one.  Christian  Science  is  by  far  the  more  dangerous, 
though  not  the  less  dubious,  of  the  two.  It  is  danger- 
ous because  of  its  successes.  It  is  dangerous  because 
its  best  exponents  are  really  sincere  and  truthful  and 
profoundly  spiritual  persons.  But  these  are  not  al- 
ways its  most  successful  practitioners.  For,  when  all  is 
said  and  done,  and  its  misses  and  its  failures  are  counted, 
its  gains  make  quite  a  considerable  ''  show."  Its  traffic 
in  the  world  of  appearances  is,  indeed,  astounding,  also 
its  profit ;  seeing  that  it  ignores  the  known  methods  of  pro- 
cedure, and  the  proved  facts,  and  the  ascertained  sequences 
and  connections  of  that  world.  With  a  mouthful  of  phrases 
and  formulas,  and  a  few  ill-assorted  bits  of  popular  '^  phi- 
losophy," picked  up  haphazard,  with  an  utter  ignorance 
of  what  it  calls  "  Western  Science,"  it  is  trying  to  undo 
in  a  day  the  work  of  centuries,  the  elaborate  and  patient 
work  of  the  most  beneficent  of  all  physical  sciences. 

And  it  is  succeeding.  Not  long  ago,  in  a  country  vil- 
lage, I  came  on  an  innocent  family  of  four  persons.  They 
were  trying  to  get  well  there.  The  father's  and  the 
mother's  health  was  impaired,  and  the  two  children's  quite 
efficiently  shattered  by  the  effects  of  the  scarlet  fever  they 
had  had  a  year  ago.  They  had  had  it  owing  to  the  view 
their  neighbour  held  that,  because  Christian  Science  can 
cure  nervous  headaches  and  hysterical  paralysis  and  take 
down  inflammation,  it  can  cure  scarlet  fever  too,  or  at 
any  rate  can  allow  children  displaying  all  the  appearances 
of  scarlet  fever  (scarlet  fever  itself  not  being  a  reality) 
to  run  loose  about  a  city  without  damage  to  the  public 
safety.     And  the  neighbour  is  probably  of  that  opinion 


THE  NEW  MYSTICISM  265 

still ;  and  when  his  children  get  diphtheria  they  will  prob- 
ably be  allowed  to  spread  it  abroad  in  the  same  way.  But, 
though  Christian  Science  despises  appearances  in  the  form 
of  disease  germs  and  the  laws  of  nature,  it  does  not  despise 
them  in  the  form  of  dollars  and  of  goods.  It  is  too  much 
messed  up  with  appearances  altogether.  It  does  not  dis- 
criminate. It  will  not  render  unto  Appearance  the  things 
that  are  Appearance's,  and  unto  Eeality  the  things  that  are 
Reality's. 

I  find  it  hard  to  write  fairly  of  Theosophy,  possibly  be- 
cause I  have  suffered  from  theosophists.  I  do  not  like 
their  way  of  handling  the  Sacred  Books  of  the  East.  I  ob- 
ject to  having  the  Bhagavad-Gita  and  the  Sutta  of  all  the 
Asavas  thrown  at  my  head,  as  if  they  had  been  portions  of 
Scripture  appointed  for  the  day,  and  specially  applicable 
to  my  unspiritual  case.  I  hate  it  when  a  woman  I  disap- 
prove of  tells  me  that  if  I  would  only  extinguish  all  my 
desires  I  should  attain  Nirvana  to-morrow.  I  know  it. 
But  I  do  not  want  to  attain  Nirvana  quite  so  soon.  When 
I  am  eating  chicken  and  my  host  is  eating  lettuce,  I  resent 
his  telling  me  that  a  vegetarian  cannot  endure  the  presence 
of  a  flesh-eater,  but  that  he  conceals  his  repulsion  because 
he  is  holier  than  the  flesh-eater.  And  I  am  really  fright- 
ened when  I  am  introduced  to  a  female  "  adept "  who  can- 
not walk  through  a  churchyard  without  seeing  what  goes 
on  in  the  graves,  and  who  insists  on  describing  what  she 
has  seen. 

Surely  there  is  something  very  wrong  there  ? 

Now  there  are  theosophical  Societies  like  the  Quest  So- 
ciety that  are  innocent,  and  there  are  theosophists  like  Mr. 
A.  P.  Sinnett  and  Mr.  G.  E.  S.  Mead  who  command  the 
greatest  admiration  and  respect ;  but  I  would  rather  think 
of  Mr.  Sinnett  and  Mr.  Mead  as  scholars  and  experts  in 
strange  religions  than  as  theosophists  at  all.  If  I  had  to 
choose  between  Pragmatism  and  Theosophy  I  would  with- 
out hesitation  choose  Pragmatism. 


266  A  DEFENCE  OE  IDEALISM 

But  that  there  are  "  powers,"  some  powers,  is,  I  think, 
no  longer  in  dispute.  I  am  quite  sure  that,  but  for  my 
will-not-to-be-healed,  a  Christian  Scientist  could  heal  me 
if  I  offered  the  appropriate  disorder.  I  daresay  the 
"  powers "  of  Mr.  Leadbeater  and  Mrs.  Annie  Besant, 
or  their  Mahatmas,  could  blast  my  career  if  I  came  un- 
der their  influence.  If  a  Bhikku  should  desire  to  ride 
cross-legged  through  the  sky,  I  do  not  think  that  he  will 
be  able  to  do  it,  but  he  will  probably  be  able  to  create  an 
illusion  of  doing  it,  so  strong  that  the  illusioned  will  see  no 
difference  between  the  appearance  and  the  reality.  All 
these  people  are  more  or  less  adepts  in  the  art  of  sug- 
gestion and  auto-suggestion ;  they  have  more  or  less  control 
over  whatever  powers  are  involved  in  telepathy,  clair- 
voyance, automatism,  and  mediumship.  But  their  powers 
are  not  more  interesting  or  wonderful  than  the  powers  of 
quite  ordinary  people  who  have  never  heard  of  a  Mahatma, 
or  else  think  it  is  the  island  New  York  City  is  built  on. 

For  the  most  elementary  power  of  telepathy  and  sug- 
gestion (which,  I  believe,  include  all  the  others)  is,  if  you 
come  to  think  of  it,  a  very  remarkable  and  significant 
thing;  almost  as  remarkable  and  significant  as  dreaming. 
It  means  that  the  ordinary  methods  of  communication  by 
speech  and  sign  are  "  transcended  " ;  that  faith  is  literally 
"the  substance  of  things  not  seen"  (a  Bhikku  riding 
cross-legged  through  the  sky  would  surely  be  a  variety  of 
such  a  substance)  ;  that,  if  it  cannot  move  mountains,  or 
even  mole-hills,  it  can  move  molecules ;  it  can,  within  limits, 
break  up  and  alter  their  chemical  arrangements ;  otherwise 
physical  healing  by  suggestion  could  not  occur.  It  looks 
as  if  thoughts  flew  about,  and  could  be  caught  casually  on 
the  wing;  only  that  things  do  not  always  happen  in  that 
haphazard  way.  There  are  certain  clear  and  steady  se- 
quences that  point  to  a  definite  and  deliberate  agency ;  they 
involve  desire  and  design.     The  selves  can  apparently  exert 


THE  NEW  MYSTICISM  267 

an  inward  spiritual   influence   as  strong  as,   or  stronger 
than,  an  outside  or  material  stimulus. 

Suggestion,  then,  seems  to  be  best  defined  as  the  power 
that  immaterial  beings  have  to  make  psychic  events  hap- 
pen. In  this  sense  we  may  say  that  it  covers  all  the  ground 
of  Magic  and  of  Mysticism  and  the  Borderland.  It  must 
have  been  used  deliberately  in  primitive  ritual  and  in  all 
the  Mysteries.  It  accounts  for  all  the  "  psychic  phenom- 
ena "  of  Mysticism :  the  miracles,  the  visions,  the  ecstasies, 
the  sense  of  Union.  It  probably  accounts  for  the  efficacy 
of  prayer.  Prayer  is  one  of  our  oldest  ancestral  instincts 
and  habits ;  it  is  therefore  one  of  the  strongest  engines  of 
suggestion  at  our  service. 

But  though  it  covers  all  the  facts  it  does  not  account  for 
all  of  them ;  and  it  does  not  cover  or  account  for  itself.  It 
does  not  account  for  the  supreme  fact  —  the  choice  of 
Ultimate  Eeality  as  the  object  of  desire.  It  does  not  ac- 
count for  the  desire  itself,  the  hunger  and  the  thirst  for 
Life,  for  New  Life  and  more  abundant  Life,  which  is  the 
driving  motive  of  the  mystic  adventure.  It  does  not  ac- 
count for  the  gradual,  steady  sublimation  of  that  desire,  nor 
for  the  corresponding  changes  in  the  conception  of  its 
object.  It  does  not  account  for  the  means  by  which  it  is 
brought  into  operation;  for  the  ascertained  uniformity  in 
the  stages  of  the  Mystic  Way  all  the  world  over;  a  uni- 
formity which  raises  the  practice  of  Mysticism  from  magic 
to  a  science  and  an  art.  It  does  not  account  —  I  know  this 
statement  will  be  challenged,  but  I  believe  it  does  not  ac- 
count —  for  the  peculiar  certainty  that  comes,  not  always 
through  illumination  and  contemplation,  and  not  through 
vision  or  ecstasy,  but  in  spite  of  them ;  a  certainty  that  is 
not  part  of  the  psychic  phenomena  at  all,  and  that,  so  far 
as  I  know,  both  psychic  phenomena  and  the  suggestion  that 
gives  rise  to  them  are  powerless  to  produce. 


268  A  DEFENCE  OF  IDEALISM 

And  it  does  not  account  for  itself.  When  we  have  said 
that  suggestion  gives  rise  to  psychic  events,  we  do  not  know 
why,  or  even  how  it  does  so.  We  have  not  said  from  what 
centres  or  on  what  levels  it  is  working.  Apparently  it  can 
work  from  all  the  centres  and  on  all  the  levels  of  our  con- 
scious or  subconscious  life.  If  we  say  that  its  chief  func- 
tion is  to  create  illusion,  we  are  very  far  from  the  truth. 
Its  chief  and  highest  function  is  to  create  reality;  to 
heighten  the  sense  and  sharpen  the  perception  of  reality ;  to 
restore  the  links  with  reality  where  they  have  been  broken. 
Otherwise  there  could  be  no  healing  by  suggestion.  And 
the  most  important  of  its  healing  functions  are  the  re- 
covery of  the  lost  Will-to-live,  and  the  joining  up  of  psychic 
states  abnormally  dissociated. 

ISTow  in  detachment,  the  state  of  mystic  dissociation  from 
normal  consciousness,  we  said  that  two  ways  were  made 
open  to  the  psyche :  one  looking  backwards  and  downwards, 
on  which  it  can  go  a  long  way  with  ease;  and  one  going 
forwards  and  upwards,  on  which  it  can  only  go  a  little  way 
with  difficulty. 

And  the  psychic  powers  of  the  borderland  can  go  up  and 
down  too.  Suggestion  can  evoke  the  instincts  and  memo- 
ries of  states  past  and  forgotten.  It  can  also  invoke  the  in- 
stinct and  the  premonition  of  a  state  not  attained.  It 
cannot  create  Ultimate  Reality,  or  the  perception  of  it. 
But  it  would  seem  that  it  can  create  a  state  in  which,  for 
moments  of  most  uncertain  duration,  Ultimate  Eeality  is 
discerned. 

In  Western  Mysticism,  above  all,  in  Catholic  Mysticism, 
the  lower  and  the  higher  forms  of  suggestion  alternate,  and 
there  is  a  dreadful  tendency  for  the  lower  form  to  hold 
the  field.  And  if  the  great  mystics  had  not  been  the  most 
marvellous  analysers  of  their  own  states,  we  should  have 
had  no  possible  means  of  distinguishing  in  their  case  be- 
tween the  two. 

Luckily  their  moments  of  certainty  seldom,  if  ever,  came 


THE  NEW  MYSTICISM  269 

when  they  were  deliberately  sought ;  they  came  —  as  they 
come  to  every  one  who  has  ever  known  them  —  unsought, 
and  unexpected  and  with  a  shock  of  surprise.  In  true 
mystic  experience  you  may  say  the  expected  never  hap- 
pens. 

Still,  remembering  the  saints  of  the  Salpetriere,  and 
Lady  Julian's  morbidities,  and  Saint  Teresa's  "  impetu- 
osities," and  all  the  terrifying  and  revolting  amorous- 
ness of  the  religious  mystic,  we  might  suspect  this  cer- 
tainty if  these  revelations  were  all  the  record  that  we  had 
of  it.  'Not  only  all  religious  experience  is  full  of  it,  but 
every  poet,  every  painter,  every  musician  knows  the  shock 
of  contact  with  reality.  The  vision  of  absolute  beauty 
while  it  lasts  is  actually  a  laying  hold  on  eternal  life.  I 
would  say  every  lover  knows  it,  but  that  sexual  passion  is 
the  source  of  our  most  profound  illusion.  Still,  even  the 
betrayed  and  disillusioned  lover  may  know  that  in  loving 
he  found  his  own  innermost  reality;  illusion  was  not  in 
him,  but  in  the  perfidious  heart  of  the  beloved ;  while  he 
loved  he  truly  lived.  Nothing  can  take  from  him  that  cer- 
tainty. The  wrong  of  sexual  treachery  lies  in  the  fact 
that  it  deprives  the  lover  (for  the  time  being)  of  life. 

And  there  is  an  even  higher  state  of  certainty  than 
these.  Almost  every  other  hero  knows  it;  the  exquisite 
and  incredible  assurance,  the  positively  ecstatic  vision  of 
Reality  that  comes  to  him  when  he  faces  death  for  the  first 
time.  There  is  no  certainty  that  life  can  give  that  sur- 
passes or  even  comes  anywhere  near  it.  And  the  world  has 
been  full  of  these  mystics,  these  visionaries,  since  August, 
1914.  Sometimes  I  think  they  are  the  only  trustworthy 
ones.  How  pure,  how  absolute  is  their  surrender;  how 
candid  and  untroubled  their  confession;  how  spontaneous 
and  undefiled  their  witness. 

And  see  how  they  back  up  all  the  Others 

This  is  the  kind  of  certainty  we  want  to  tide  us  over 


270  A  DEFENCE  OF  IDEALISM 

the  straits  where  Western  Mysticism  often  leaves  us  floun- 
dering. 

I  say  Western  Mysticism,  because  in  the  Buddhist 
Sacred  Books  and  in  the  Upanishads  and  the  Vedanta,  and 
in  the  Mysticism  of  Kabir,  you  do  not  find  anywhere  the 
same  repulsive  qualities.  You  enter  a  purer  and  a  subtler 
air ;  and  the  Light  of  Godhead,  "  das  Fliessende  Licht 
der  Gottheit,"  does  not  flow ;  it  is  strong  and  very  still. 

There  are  reasons,  as  we  shall  see,  for  this  difference. 
The  Western  mind  comes  to  Mysticism  by  a  peculiarly 
dangerous  and  difficult  path.  For  one  thing,  it  came  to  it 
a  bit  too  early.  The  art  and  science  of  it  were  perfected  in 
Asia,  if  not  before  the  first  principles  had  been  discovered 
in  Europe  and  Asia  Minor,  at  any  rate  long  before  they  had 
had  a  chance  to  develop.  The  Christian  Mystics  seem 
never  to  have  quite  perfected  the  technique  of  the  thing; 
and  seldom  to  have  achieved  a  perfect  and  a  safe  detach- 
ment. Admirable  psychoanalysts  as  they  were,  they  lacked 
that  minute  psychological  theory  and  practice  which  the 
Indian  seems  undoubtedly  to  have  possessed.  They 
plunged  into  the  dangerous  adventure  without  adequate 
preparation,  as  one  who  should  jump  into  the  Atlantic  with- 
out a  safety-belt.  In  the  language  of  modern  phychology, 
they  had  not  learned  how  to  "  sublimate  their  libidos." 

And  this  apparently  was  what  the  subtle  Indian  had 
learned  before  ever  he  set  out  on  the  adventure.  The 
Western  Mystic  did  not  know,  or  had  forgotten,  that  the 
desire  of  Life,  even  physical  desire,  is  an  indestructible 
and  holy,  though  a  dangerous  thing.  He  suppressed  physi- 
cal desire ;  he  stamped  it  down  into  the  Unconscious ;  and 
then,  in  a  state  of  passivity  or  trance,  he  went  down  there 
after  it,  and  was  met  by  the  resurgence  of  all  his  savage  and 
ancestral  memories.  He  retrogressed.  He  did  not  know 
that  this  would  happen  to  him  (he  knew  nothing  at  all  or 
very  little  about  the  Unconscious)  ;  and  every  time  it  did 
happen  he  was  agonized  and  astonished.     But  the  Indian 


THE  NEW  MYSTICISM  271 

Mystic  knew  very  well  what  would  happen,  and  why  it 
happened;  and  when  he  went  travelling  in  the  untrodden 
country  he  took  good  care  to  close  the  gates  of  the  paths 
that  led  downwards.  Sometimes  they  swung  to  of  their 
own  accord  and  the  Christian  mystic  was  safe. 

Still,  there  is  a  gTeat  gulf  fixed  between  Eastern  and 
Western  Mysticism.  Sometimes  the  Catholics  bridge  it, 
when  they  are  metaphysical,  which  is  seldom.  But  Julian 
of  Norwich,  for  one,  managed  to  get  over.  Her  First 
Revelation  of  Divine  Love  might  have  come  straight  from 
the  heart  of  Asia. 

"  In  this  same  time  our  Lord  shewed  me  a  spiritual  sight  of 
His  homely  loving. 

"  I  saw  that  He  is  to  us  everything  that  is  good  and  comfort- 
able for  us:  He  is  our  clothing  that  for  love  wrappeth  us, 
claspeth  us,  and  all  encloseth  us  for  tender  love,  that  He  may 
never  leave  us;  being  to  us  all-thing  that  is  good,  as  to  mine 
understanding. 

"  Also  in  this  He  shewed  me  a  little  thing,  the  quantity  of  an 
hazel-nut,  in  the  palm  of  my  hand;  and  it  was  as  round  as  a 
ball.  I  looked  thereupon  with  eye  of  my  understanding,  and 
thought:  What  may  this  be?  And  it  was  answered  generally 
thus:  It  is  all  that  is  made.  I  marvelled  how  it  might  last, 
for  methought  it  might  suddenly  have  fallen  to  naught  for  lit- 
tle (ness).  And  I  was  answered  in  my  understanding:  It 
lasteth,  and  ever  shall  (last)  for  that  God  loveth  it.  And  so 
All-thing  hath  the  Being  by  the  Love  of  God."  {Revelations  of 
Divine  Love,  p.  10.) 

Compare  this  with  the  well-knowti  duologue  in  the 
Khdndogya-  Upanisliad. 

"  '  Fetch  me  from  thence  a  fruit  of  the  Nyagrodha  tree.' 

"  '  Here  is  one,  Sir.' 

"'Break  it.' 

"  '  It  is  broken.  Sir.' 

"  *  What  do  you  see  there  ? ' 

"  '  These  seeds,  almost  infinitesimal.' 

"  '  Break  one  of  them.' 

"  '  It  is  broken,  Sir.' 

" '  What  do  you  see  there  ? ' 


272  A  DEFENCE  OF  IDEALISM 

"'Not  anything,  Sir.' 

"  The  father  said :  '  My  son,  that  subtle  essence  which  you 
do  not  perceive  there,  of  that  very  essence  the  great  Nyagrodha 
tree  exists. 

" '  Believe  it,  my  son.  That  which  is  the  subtle  essence,  in  it 
all  that  exists  has  its  self.  It  is  the  True.  It  is  the  Self,  and 
thou,  O  Svetaketu,  art  it.' "  ^^ 

Observe  what  is  happening.  It  is  as  if  Mr.  Barlow  were 
instructing  Sandf ord  and  Merton  in  the  Hegelian  Dialectic. 
Observe  that  it  is  said  of  Svetaketu  that  "  he  understood. 
Yea,  he  understood."  The  Indian  takes  to  the  Absolute 
like  a  duck  to  water.  He  may  attain  Deliverance  before 
he  is  sixteen,  instead  of  having  to  wait  for  it  till  he  is  sixty, 
when  the  passions  cease  from  troubling  of  their  own  accord. 

In  her  clearest  moments  Julian  is  as  devout  a  pantheist 
as  any  Indian  mystic.  She  had  even  her  pantheistic  for- 
mula to  match  the  "  Thou  art  it"  {Tat  tvam  asi)  of  the 
Upanishad. 

"  I  it  am,  I  it  am :  I  it  am  that  is  highest ;  I  it  am  that 
thou  lovest;  I  it  am  that  thou  enjoyest;  I  it  am  that  thou 
servest;  I  it  am  that  thou  longest  for;  I  it  am  that  thou  de- 
sirest ;  I  it  am  that  thou  meanest,  I  it  am  that  is  all."  (^Reve- 
lations of  Divine  Love,  pp.  54,  55.) 

II 

We  are  very  near  the  secret  of  the  psychic  backsliding 
and  spiritual  torment  of  the  Christian  mystic.  They  are 
due,  not  only  to  imperfect  psychological  technique,  but  to 
imperfect  metaphysics.  In  spite  of  the  refinements  of 
tho  Schoolmen,  the  Christian  idea  of  God  was  never  wholly 
sublimated  by  thought.  It  rests  on  a  naif  and  obstinate 
dualism  that  resists  the  process. 

It  is  to  the  East  that  we  must  turn  to  find  the  highest  and 
the  purest  form  of  Mysticism ;  a  Mysticism  that  has  passed 
through  the  fire  of  metaphysical  thinking,  and  is  itself  sub- 
limated. 


THE  NEW  MYSTICISM  273 

But  before  we  compare  Western  with  Eastern  Mysti- 
cism, as  I  am  going  to  do,  to  the  disadvantage  of  the  Chris- 
tian variety,  three  things  must  be  kept  well  in  sight. 

First,  that  the  final  goal  of  Christian  Mysticism  is  not 
"  experience,"  not  vision,  not  ecstasy,  but  the  Unitive 
Life,  the  life  lived  in  union  with  Reality.  Life  lived,  not 
merely  contemplated ;  a  life  of  "  fruition  and  activity," 
lifted  for  ever  above  the  powers  of  the  Subconscious.  Of 
this  state  Evelyn  Underbill  says  that  in  it  man's  nature 

".  .  .  has  become  conscious  in  all  its  parts,  has  unified  itself 
about  its  highest  elements.  That  strange,  tormenting  vision  of 
a  perfect  peace,  a  joyous  self-loss,  annihilation  in  some  mighty 
Life  which  over-passed  his  own,  which  haunts  man  through  the 
whole  course  of  his  history,  and  finds  a  more  or  less  distorted 
expression  in  all  his  creeds,  a  justification  in  all  his  ecstasies, 
is  now  traced  to  its  source:  and  found  to  be  the  inevitable  ex- 
pression of  an  instinct  by  which  he  recognised,  though  he  could 
not  attain  the  noblest  part  of  his  inheritance."  {Mysticism, 
p.  520.) 

She  denies  on,  I  think,  somewhat  insufficient  grounds, 
that  this  state  was  conspicuously  attained  in  Eastern 
Mysticism.  That  is  to  say,  in  Eastern  Mysticism  that  was 
not  infiuenced  by  Christianity.^'*  But  the  Christian  apol- 
ogist has  still  to  admit  that  in  the  West  it  was  usually 
reached  late  in  life,  and  that  certain  physical  cessations 
may  have  contributed.  However  that  may  be,  it  is  the  end 
of  "  mystical  ill-health." 

Again,  the  Christian  saint  brings  to  the  quest  for  Eeality 
something  that  is  not  always  found  in  mysticisms  that  have 
been  highly  sublimated  by  thought. 

Julian  of  Norwich  says  of  her  hazel-nut : 

"  In  this  little  thing  I  saw  three  properties.  The  first  is 
that  God  madeth  it;  the  second  is  that  God  loveth  it;  the  third 
is  that  God  keepeth  it.  But  what  is  to  me  verily  the  Maker, 
the  Keeper,  and  the  Lover,  I  cannot  tell."  {Revelations  of 
Divine  Love,  p.  10.) 

And  she  speaks  for  all  her  kindred.     Her  way  is  the  way 


274  A  DEFENCE  OF  IDEALISM 

of  the  mystic  Kabir,  and  of  the  Vaishnavists,  the  Human- 
ists of  India. 

"  Few,"  says  Kabir,  "  are  the  lovers  who  know  the  Be- 
loved. The  devout  seeker  is  he  who  mingles  in  his  heart 
the  double  currents  of  love  and  detachment." 

Lastly,  Mysticism  itself  is  a  thing  of  gradual  develop- 
ment, and  the  Eastern  and  the  Western  forms  of  it  are 
tending  to  approach,  with  the  result  that  Pantheism  is  ab- 
sorbing Christian  Humanism,  to  Humanism's  great  gain. 

This  tendency  is  so  conspicuous  in  the  modern  literature 
of  East  and  West,  that  it  may  be  fairly  called  the  New 
Mysticism.  It  has  been,  I  think,  not  only  an  affair  of  in- 
fluence, but  of  the  slow  yet  inevitable  maturing  of  the  West- 
em  mind.  It  is  no  food  for  sick  souls ;  it  has  put  the 
disease  of  asceticism  behind  it;  it  is  a  robust  and  joyous 
Mysticism,  reconciled  to  the  world. 

When  Sir  Eabindranath  Tagore  was  over  here,  in  the 
years  before  the  War,  he  told  us  that  the  destiny  of  the 
East  was  "  to  spiritualize  the  West."  Complacent  west- 
erners smiled  at  the  saying,  as  if  the  great  poet  had  been 
offering  to  teach  his  grandmother  an  art  that  she  had  per- 
fected before  he  was  born.  Yet  his  was  simply  the  calm 
statement  of  a  truth. 

Still,  if  some  of  our  poets  and  mystics  had  not  gone 
before  him,  we  should  not  have  been  as  ready  for  him  as  we 
were. 

Before  the  publication  of  his  translation  of  the  One  Hun- 
dred Poems  of  Kahir,  his  own  Gitanjali  stood  almost 
alone,  representing  for  many  of  us  all  that  is  purest  and 
highest  in  Mysticism.  Therefore,  I  venture  to  repeat  here 
what  I  wrote  of  it  four  years  ago.  There  is  hardly  a  word 
of  it  that  will  not  apply  equally  to  the  work  of  his  fore- 
runner, Kabir. 

To  the  Western  mind  there  is  a  gulf  fixed  between  the 
common   human    heart    and    Transcendent    Being.     The 


THE  I^EW  MYSTICISM  275 

European  and  the  American,  in  their  quest  of  Eeality,  are 
apt  to  be  taken  in  by  appearances;  they  do  not  readily 
make  the  great  distinction.  That  is  partly  why,  with  the 
exception  of  the  classics  of  Mysticism,  the  devotional  poetry 
of  the  West,  Catholic  and  Protestant  alike,  is  so  unsatisfy- 
ing. Most  of  it  is  written  by  people  who  are  not  poets. 
But  the  worst  of  it  is  that  it  is  not  supremely  devotional. 
It  does  not  deal  directly  with  the  Transcendent,  but  pro- 
ceeds, fervently  indeed,  but  always  by  way  of  dogma  and 
tradition,  as  it  were  by  perpetual  makeshifts,  and  through 
the  most  horrible  tangle  of  material  and  carnal  imagery,  to 
a  visionary  Throne  of  Grace.  You  never  seem  to  arrive. 
Your  heart  may  be  soothed  by  the  assurance  of  atonement ; 
but  your  finer  metaphysical  hunger  is  left  for  ever  unap- 
peased. 

But  take  these  songs  of  Divine  Love  from  the  Gitdnjali: 

"In  the  deep  shadows  of  the  rainy  July,  with  secret  steps, 
thou  walkest,  silent  as  night,  eluding  all  watchers. 

"  The  woodlands  have  hushed  their  songs,  and  doors  are  all 
shut  at  every  house.  Thou  art  the  solitary  wayfarer  in  this 
deserted  street.  Oh,  my  only  friend,  my  best  beloved,  the  gates 
are  open  in  my  house  —  do  not  pass  by  like  a  dream." 

"  The  day  is  no  more,  the  shadow  is  upon  the  earth.  It  is 
time  that  I  go  to  the  stream  to  fill  my  pitcher. 

"  I  know  not  if  I  shall  come  back  home.  I  know  not  whom  I 
shall  chance  to  meet.  There  at  the  fording  in  the  little  boat 
the  unknown  man  plays  upon  his  lute." 

In  the  poems  of  this  mystic  the  world  appears  no  longer 
in  its  brutality,  its  vehemence,  its  swift  yet  dense  fluidity ; 
it  is  seized  in  the  very  moment  of  its  passing,  and  fixed  in 
the  clarity  and  stillness  of  his  vision.  It  is  always  the 
same  everyday  world,  the  dusty  road,  the  deserted  street, 
the  solitary  fording,  "  the  bank  in  the  shady  lane  "  where 
"  the  yellow  leaves  flutter  and  fall."  At  the  coming  of  the 
Unknown    Traveller   "  the  leaves   rustled   overhead ;   the 


276  A  DEFENCE  OF  IDEALISM 

cuckoo  sang  from  the  unseen  dark,  and  perfume  of  hahla 
flowers  came  from  the  end  of  the  road."  A  world  vivid  to 
every  sense,  yet  the  stage  of  a  supersensual  drama,  the  scene 
of  the  divine  adventure.  So  vivid  and  so  actual  is  it,  that 
only  its  strange  fixity  stirs  in  you  the  thrill  of  the  super- 
sensual. 

And  through  this  fixity,  this  stillness  of  rhythm  and  of 
mood,  there  is  a  mysterious  trouble  and  excitement,  an 
awful  tension  of  expectancy.  It  is  the  stillness  of  intense 
vibration,  of  life  inconceivably  living,  the  ecstasy  of  su- 
preme passion  consummated  and  consumed. 

There  is  nothing  in  the  Western  world  to  compare  with 
these  poems  but  the  writings  of  those  mystics  who  were 
also  saints:  Saint  Augustine,  Saint  Thomas  a  Kempis, 
Saint  Francis  of  Assisi,  Julian  of  Norwich,  Saint  Teresa, 
Saint  Catherine  of  Genoa  who  said,  "  My  Me  is  God,  nor 
do  I  recognize  any  other  Me,  except  my  God  Himself." 
(Vita  e  dottrina.)  Above  all,  Saint  John  of  the  Cross,  in 
The  Dark  Night  of  the  Soul: 

"  Upon  my  flowery  breast, 
Wholly  for  Him  and  save  himself  for  none. 
There  did  I  give  sweet  rest 
To  my  beloved  one; 
The  banners  of  the  cedars  breathed  thereon ! " 

(Translation  by  Arthur  Symons.) 

All  these  impassioned  lovers  of  the  Godhead  use  the 
same  language,  telling  of  the  same  unique  experience ;  and 
it  is  invariably  the  language  of  human  passion;  for  the 
simple  and  sufficient  reason  that  there  is  no  other.  At  the 
same  time,  with  the  exception  of  Dante's  Paradiso  and 
Vita  Nuova,  it  would  be  hard  to  find  in  all  the  poetry  of 
Western  mysticism  a  perfect  parallel  to  the  passion  of  the 
Gitanjali.  There  are  few  Western  mystics  who  do  not 
somewhere  betray  the  restlessness  that  lies  around  their 
rest.  Until  the  final  attainment  of  the  Unitive  Life,  their 
peace  would  seem  to  have  been  harder  won,  to  be  held 


THE  ^EW  MYSTICISM  277 

more  perilously,  to  be  always  on  the  point  of  passing;  so 
vivid  is  the  sense  they  give  of  effort,  of  struggle,  of  frantic 
desperation.  There  is  a  corresponding  vehemence  and 
violence  in  their  language.  Saint  Teresa  says  of  the  state 
of  the  enraptured  soul :  "  No  consolation  reaches  it  from 
heaven,  and  it  is  not  there  itself ;  it  wishes  for  none  from 
earth,  and  it  is  not  there  either,  but  it  is,  as  it  were,  cruci- 
fied between  earth  and  heaven,  enduring  its  passion." 

Saint  John  of  the  Cross  speaks  of  an  "  intense  and 
amorous  impetus,"  answering  to  Saint  Teresa's  "  impetu- 
osities." 

For,  as  we  have  seen,  the  language  of  the  Catholic 
mystic  is  often  the  language  of  sensuous,  almost  of 
sensual  emotion ;  so  voluptuous  that  it  lends  itself  very 
easily  to  the  interpretation  of  the  profane.  But  it  is  im- 
possible to  doubt  the  "  spirituality  "  of  these  Bengali  songs 
of  Divine  Love.  They  are  at  the  very  highest  level  of  at- 
tainment in  their  kind.  They  have  the  serenity  and  purity 
of  supreme  possession.  Mystic  passion  embraces  while  it 
transcends  the  whole  range  of  human  passion.  Like 
human  passion,  it  works  through  body,  heart  and  soul.  It 
is  the  soul  and  the  heart  of  passion  that  you  find  in  the 
Gitdnjali;  its  secret  and  invisible  things,  small  and  great ; 
all  in  it  that  is  superb,  inviolate,  undying;  all  that  is 
lowly,  and  most  fragile;  its  impalpable,  incommunicable 
moods,  its  evanescences,  its  dreams,  its  subtleties,  its  reti- 
cences and  courtesies ;  its  fears  and  delicate  shames. 

"  I  asked  nothing  from  thee ;  I  uttered  not  my  name  to  thine 
ear.     When  thou  took'st  thy  leave  I  stood  silent." 

There  is  no  querulousness  and  no  grossness  of  impa- 
tience, no  restlessness  in  this  passion  of  the  expectant  soul. 

And  on  the  part  of  the  pursuing  God  there  are  none  of 
those  impetuosities  that  overwhelmed  Saint  Teresa,  He 
comes  "  with  silent  steps."  He  is  the  lover  waiting  in  the 
shadows.     He  is  the  watcher  by  the  bed,  the  solitary  way- 


278  A  DEFENCE  OF  IDEALISM 

f arer  in  the  deserted  street,  the  traveller  at  the  well ;  he  is 
Krishna,  the  lute-player,  the  "  unknown  man  "  playing  in 
the  little  boat  at  the  fording.  I  know  nothing  so  per- 
suasive as  the  glamour  of  this  Eastern  stillness,  nothing 
that  evokes  so  irresistibly,  so  inevitably  the  sense  of  the 
Unseen. 

"  There,  where  spreads  the  infinite  sky  for  the  soul  to 
take  her  flight  in,  reigns  the  stainless  white  radiance. 
There  is  no  day  nor  night,  nor  form  nor  colour,  and  never, 
never  a  word." 

Before  this  austerity  and  restraint  all  foregoing  compari- 
sons break  down.  There  is,  through  all  their  likeness,  an 
unmistakable  difference  between  those  great  Western  mys- 
tics and  Rabindranath  Tagore. 

Their  passion  utters  a  more  poignant  lyrical  cry. 
They  experience  a  more  violent  rapture  in  union,  and  a 
deeper  tragedy  in  separation.  Nothing  could  well  be  far- 
ther from  his  spirit  than  their  emotionalism.  Individual 
temperament  has  no  doubt  something  to  do  with  it ;  but  it  is 
not  the  whole  secret.  This  tumult  and  tragic  pain  of  theirs 
has  its  own  law.  It  displays  itself  in  proportion  to  their 
asceticism,  to  the  violence  of  their  rupture  with  the  divine 
visible  world.  It  is  the  outcome  of  the  dualism  inherent 
in  Christianity.  There  never  was  a  religion  that  promised 
so  much  and  gave  so  little ;  that  kept  man's  soul  in  such  an 
awful  poise  between  heaven  and  hell ;  that  left  his  passion 
for  God  so  agonized  and  unappeased.  Its  dualism,  its 
asceticism,  frustrates  the  longing  of  its  saints.  Their 
holiest  ecstasies  are  troubled  with  the  resurgence  of  the 
source  it  has  polluted. 

To  the  devotee  of  a  Creator  inconceivably  different,  in- 
finitely remote  and  separate  from  his  creation,  the  visible 
world  is  necessarily  undivine,  abhorrent  and  unholy.  In 
renouncing  the  world  the  Eastern  ascetic  denies  its  real- 
ity. But  the  Christian,  in  the  very  act  of  renunciation, 
affirms  its  shocking  independent  entity.     Thus  his  deliver- 


THE  NEW  MYSTICISM  279 

ance  is  never  either  physically  or  metaphysically  complete. 
That  is  the  Christian's  tragedy.  He  cannot,  without  an 
agonizing  struggle,  get  rid  of  the  world  that  weighs  on  him ; 
whereas  it  is  comparatively  easy  for  the  Oriental  to  divest 
himself,  as  it  were,  of  his  cosmic  clothing.  It  is  doubtful 
if  any  Eastern  ascetic,  Brahman  or  Buddhist,  could  feel 
the  same  furious  hatred  and  horror  of  the  world;  seeing 
that  to  him  the  world,  the  whole  visible  universe,  is  at  its 
worse  no  more  than  an  illusion.  You  may  refuse  to  be- 
come attached  to  an  illusion,  you  may  withdraw  from  it 
with  every  circumstance  of  profound  repudiation ;  but  you 
cannot  furiously  hate  and  abhor  a  thing  which,  for  you, 
has  no  real  existence  of  its  own. 

In  the  Gitdnjali  you  will  find  none  of  this  hatred  and 
abhorrence,  none,  either,  of  this  serene  indifference  and 
denial, 

"Deliverance  is  not  for  me  in  renunciation."  ...  "I  will 
never  shut  the  doors  of  my  senses.  The  delights  of  sight  and 
hearing  and  touch  will  bear  thy  delight." 

"  What  divine  drink,"  he  cries,  "  would'st  thou  have, 
my  God,  from  the  overflowing  cup  of  my  life  ?  "  And 
again,  echoing  Kabir : 

"  The  same  stream  of  life  that  runs  through  my  veins  night 
and  day  runs  through  the  world  and  dances  in  rhythmic  meas- 
ures. 

"  It  is  the  same  life  that  shoots  in  joy  through  the  dust  of  the 
earth  in  numberless  blades  of  grass,  and  breaks  into  tumultuous 
waves  of  leaves  and  flowers." 

"  Is  it  beyond  thee,"  he  asks,  "  to  be  glad  with  the  glad- 
ness of  this  rhythm  ?  to  be  tossed  and  lost  and  broken  in  the 
whirl  of  this  fearful  joy  ?  "  To  him  the  life  of  God  is  an 
"  abounding  joy  that  scatters  and  gives  up  and  dies  every 
moment."  The  whole  complexity  of  things,  the  veil  of 
Maya,  the  illusion  of  the  world,  is  simple  and  translucent  to 
him,  so  simple  and  so  translucent  that  Reality  is  neither 


280  A  DEFENCE  OF  IDEALISM 

hidden  by  it  nor  obscured.  That  wearing  of  the  veil  of 
illusion  is  the  jest  of  the  Divine  Lover  hiding  himself  from 
his  beloved  that  he  may  be  the  more  passionately  desired. 

"  It  is  he  who  weaves  the  web  of  this  maya  in  evanescent  hues 
of  gold  and  silver,  blue  and  green,  and  lets  peep  out  through  the 
folds  his  feet,  at  whose  touch  I  forget  myself." 

Everywhere  in  these  poems  there  is  this  acceptance  of 
humanity,  this  ecstasy  of  joy  in  movement  and  in  beauty, 
this  adoration  of  life. 

"  Let  all  the  strains  of  joy  mingle  in  my  last  song  —  the  joy 
that  makes  the  earth  flow  over  in  the  riotous  excess  of  the  grass, 
the  joy  that  sets  the  twin  brothers,  life  and  death,  dancing  over 
the  wide  world,  the  joy  that  sweeps  in  with  the  tempest,  shaking 
and  waking  all  life  with  laughter,  the  joy  that  sits  still  with  its 
tears  on  the  open  red  lotus  of  pain,  and  the  joy  that  throws 
everything  it  has  upon  the  dust,  and  knows  not  a  word."  ^^ 

It  looks  at  first  sight  as  if  this  all-embracing  mysticism 
were  diiferent  in  its  very  nature  from  the  view  of  the 
Catholic  recluse  prisoned  in  his  cell.  And  it  has  appar- 
ently even  less  afiinity  with  Indian  mysticism  of  the  Pan- 
theistic type.  And  this  is  a  little  disconcerting.  Surely, 
you  say,  there  must  be  things  in  the  Upanishads  from 
which  some  at  least  of  these  poems  are  descended  ?  You 
take  down  your  Upanishads  and  hunt  through  them  ex- 
citedly for  those  things,  but  in  vain ;  unless  you  are  pre- 
pared to  accept  wholesale  the  interpretation  of  the  in- 
genious Eamanuja,  who  contended  that  even  in  union  with 
Brahma  the  individual  self  maintained  its  separate 
identity.  And  it  is  only  now  and  again  in  the  Gitdn- 
jali  that  there  comes  any  reverberation  of  the  mystic 
words,  "  Tat  tvam  asi,"  "  Thou  art  it,"  of  those  resonant 
and  resplendent  passages  which  proclaim  the  absolute,  in- 
separable identity  of  all  things,  of  all  selves  in  the  Great 
Self. 

Now,  the  metaphysician  may  deny  or  affirm  that  identity 
as  his  appetite  or  his  instinct  prompts  him.     Nothing  can 


THE  NEW  MYSTICISM  281 

be  more  certain  than  that,  for  some  mystics,  the  personal 
relation  is  an  experience,  a  fact.  All  the  same  it,  and 
the  separation  it  implies,  is  an  experience  and  a  fact  that 
begins  and  ends  in  their  own  individual  consciousness.  It 
is  irreducible,  indescribable,  incommunicable.  Meta- 
physically, it  stands  for  nothing  more  nor  less  than  that 
moment  in  which  the  human  soul  becomes  conscious  of  it- 
self in  God.  The  thing  is  duplex  only  in  one  aspect. 
Around  it,  continuing  in  it  and  transcending  it,  are  all  the 
unity,  all  the  identity  you  can  desire.  The  separation  is 
not  real;  not  absolute;  any  more  than  death  or  birth  is; 
it  is  part  of  the  illusion ;  part  of  the  great  game ;  "  the  hid- 
ing and  seeking  of  thee  and  me." 

"It  is  the  pang  of  separation  that  spreads  throughout  the 
world  and  gives  birth  to  shapes  innumerable  in  the  infinite  sky. 

"  It  is  this  sorrow  of  separation  that  gazes  in  silence  all  night 
from  star  to  star  and  becomes  lyric  among  rustling  leaves  in 
rainy  darkness  of  July. 

"  It  is  this  overspreading  pain  that  deepens  into  loves  and  de- 
sires, into  sufferings  and  joys  in  human  homes;  and  this  it  is 
that  ever  melts  and  flows  in  song  through  my  poet's  heart." 

To  find  Eabindranath  Tagore's  true  sources  and  affini- 
ties you  must  go  back,  first  of  all,  to  the  fifteenth  and  six- 
teenth centuries ;  to  Kabir  the  mystic ;  to  the  great  Vaish- 
navists  who  were  the  Humanists  of  India ;  to  Chandidas 
the  poet ;  to  Chaitanya  Devi,  the  God-intoxicated  saint  and 
seer.  But  going  back  further  still,  as  far  back  as  you  can 
go,  you  find  this  naif  personal  attitude  in  the  Vedic 
Hymns.  The  ancient  Eishis,  as  lamentably  as  any  Chris- 
tian, felt  "  self "  to  be  separated  from  their  deity  or 
deities  by  the  fact  of  sin.  It  was  those  who  came  after 
them,  the  more  philosophic  Eishis  of  the  Upanishads,  the 
Buddhists  who  came  after  thetn  and  the  expert  meta- 
physicians of  the  Vedanta,  who  reversed  this  view  and 
found  sin  in  the  illusion  of  separation.  And  all  the  later 
mystic  poetry  of  India,  from  Kabir  onwards,  springs  from 


282  A  DEFENCE  OE  IDEALISM 

the  conflict  and  reconciliation  between  that  immemorial 
feeling  of  separation  and  that  profound  and  supersensual 
certainty  of  oneness.  This  indeed  is  the  source  of  all  the 
mysticism  that  ever  was.  Only  in  India  the  feeling  of 
separation  is  the  baffling  thing.  The  supersensual  cer- 
tainty is  taken  for  granted,  while  in  Christianity  it  is  all 
the  other  way.  In  India  it  is  simply  a  question  of  whether 
you  are  going  to  agree,  say,  with  the  ingenious  Eamanuja 
that  the  individual  soul  preserves  its  identity  in  union ;  or 
with  the  learned  Sankaracharya  that  it  has  never  had  any 
separate  identity  to  lose;  or  with  the  poets,  who  are  the 
seers  of  Reality,  that  it  may  have  identity  and  lose  it,  and 
recover  it  and  lose  it  again.  For  there  is  always  this 
third  alternative. 

It  is  clear  that  what  the  mystics  are  seeking  is  trans- 
cendent identity.  There  are  three  who,  by  their  double 
genius  of  passion  and  of  insight,  have  the  right  to  speak 
for  all  of  them. 

One  is  Julian  of  Norwich. 

"  Till  I  am  Substantially  oned  to  Him,  I  may  never  have  full 
rest  nor  very  bliss:  that  is  to  say,  till  I  be  so  fastened  to  him 
that  there  is  right  nought  that  is  made  betwixt  my  God  and  me.'' 
{Revelations  of  Divine  Love,  p.  10.) 

One  is  Rabindranath  Tagore. 

And  one  is  the  greatest  of  them  all  —  Kabir. 

Kabir  is  a  test  case.  Before  the  appearance  of  the 
One  Hundred  Poems  (translated  and  edited  by  Rabin- 
dranath Tagore  and  Evelyn  Underbill),  the  only  Kabir 
that  I  could  lay  my  hands  on  was  a  book  of  select  passages, 
translated  and  edited  by  a  Christian  missionary. 

I  don't  suggest  that  the  missionary  "  did  anything " 
to  Kabir.  Still,  the  repudiators  of  Pantheistic  Monism 
have  used  Kabir  freely  as  a  proof  that  Christianity  had 
"  spiritualized  "  India ;  and  when  this  was  all  we  had  of 


THE  NEW  MYSTICISM  283 

him  it  was  possible  to  admit  that  there  might  be  some- 
thing in  it.  At  least  it  was  possible  to  give  the  dualists  the 
benefit  of  a  doubt. 

I  find  that  I  gave  it  them  myself  in  1913,  when  I 
could  write  this  sort  of  thing : 

"  Kabir,  conscious  of  the  separation,  conceives  union  as  a 
mingling  in  which  the  soul  is  certainlj^  f !]  not  lost.  *  The  soul 
(atma)  and  the  Great  Soul  (Param  Atma)  for  many  ages  re- 
mained apart;  the  true  Guru  (teacher)  came  as  a  dealer 
(dallah,  middleman)  and  made  of  them  a  beauteous  mixture.' 
*  The  power  that  cannot  be  described,  the  form  that  imparts 
life,  whoever  becomes  one  with  him  (as  milk  with  water)  that 
man,  says  Kabir  to  Dharm  Dass,  Kali  cannot  destroy.'  '  Thou 
art  the  ocean ;  I  am  the  fish  of  the  water,'  he  says,  '  I  dwell  in 
the  water,  without  the  water  I  am  done  for.'  But  he  does  not 
say  he  is  a  dewdrop  and  that  he  slips  into  the  shining  sea.  And 
though  he  protests  '  Whatever  I  did,  you  did ;  I  did  nothing  my- 
self;  should  men  say  I  did  it,  it  was  in  your  strength  that  it 
was  done,'  he  makes  it  clear  that  he  preserves  his  separate  iden- 
tity all  the  same." 

The  champions  of  Christian  Dualism  are  welcome  to  all 
they  can  get  out  of  Kabir's  fish,  and  his  milk,  and  his  mid- 
dleman ;  and  to  all  they  can  get  out  of  any  other  image  he 
may  use  to  express  his  relation  to  the  Absolute.  I  cannot 
conceive  how  they  can  read  the  rest  of  the  Hundred  Poems 
and  not  see  that  India  has  absorbed  him  body  and  soul. 
He  has  the  true  intransigeance  of  the  convert.  He  is 
closer,  far  closer  than  Tagore  —  to  the  pure  metaphysical 
Monism  of  the  Svetasvatara-Upanishad.  His  mysticism 
is  only  free  from  metaphysics  because  it  has  passed 
through  the  last  fires  of  thought.     It  is  utterly  sublimated. 

Take  the  least  metaphysical  and  most  purely  poetic  of 
the  Hundred  Poems: 

XII 

"  Tell  me,  O  Swan,  your  ancient  tale, 

From  what  land  do  you  come,  .0  Swan?  to  what  shore  will 

you  fly  ? 


284  A  DEFENCE  OF  IDEALISM 

Where  would  you  take  your  rest,  O  Swan,  and  what  do  you 
seek? 

"Even  this  morning,  O  Swan,  awake,  arise,  follow  me! 
There  is  a  land  where  no  doubt  nor  sorrow  have  rule:  where 

the  terror  of  Death  is  no  more. 
There  the  woods  of  spring  are  a-bloom,  and  the  fragrant  scent 

'  He  is  I '  is  borne  on  the  wind. 
There  the  bee  of  the  heart  is  deeply  immersed,  and  desires 

no  other  joy." 

Again : 

"  The  creature  is  in  Brahma,  and  Brahma  is  in  the  creature : 

they  are  ever  distinct;  yet  ever  united. 
He  Himself  is  the  tree,  the  seed,  and  the  germ. 
He  Himself  is  the  flower,  the  fruit,  and  the  shade. 
He  Himself  is  the  sun,  the  light  and  the  lighted. 
He  Himself  is  Brahma,  creature,  and  Maya. 
He  Himself  is  the  manifold  form,  the  infinite  space. 
He  is  the  breath,  the  word,  and  the  meaning. 
He  Himself  is  the  limit  and  the  limitless,  and  beyond  both 

the  limit  and  the  limitless  is  He,  the  Pure  Being. 
He  is  the  Immanent  Mind  in  Brahma  and  in  the  creature." 

(vn.) 

"  He  is  immersed  in  all  consciousness,  all  joys  and  all  sorrows ; 
He  has  no  beginning  and  no  end; 
He  holds  all  within  his  bliss."     (xxvi.) 

"  Before  the  Unconditioned,  the  Conditioned  dances. 
'Thou  and  I  are  one!'  His  trumpet  proclaims."     (xLV.) 

"  The  water-filled  pitcher  is  placed  upon  water,  it  has  water 
within  and  without. 
It  should  not  he  given  a  name,  lest  it  call  forth  the  error  of 
dualism."     (xlvi.) 

(What  could  possibly  be  plainer  ?) 

LXXX 

"  The  true  Name  is  like  none  other  name! 


THE  NEW  MYSTICISM  285 

The  distinction  of  the  Conditioned  from  the  Unconditioned 
is  but  a  word : 

The  Unconditioned  is  the  seed,  the  Conditioned  is  the  flower 
and  the  fruit. 

Knowledge  is  the  branch,  and  the  Name  is  the  root. 

Look  and  see  where  the  root  is :  happiness  shall  be  yours  when 
you  come  to  the  root. 

The  root  will  lead  you  to  the  branch,  the  leaf,  the  flower,  and 
the  fruit : 

It  is  the  Encounter  with  the  Lord,  it  is  the  attainment  of  bliss, 
it  is  the  reconciliation  of  the  Conditioned  and  the  Un- 
conditioned." 

Evelyn  Underbill  points  out  in  her  Introduction  that 
the  mystic  intuition  recognizes  "  a  universe  of  three  orders : 
Becoming,  Being,  and  that  which  '  More  than  Being,' 
i.e.  God." 

It  is  well  said.  And  yet  I  confess  I  don't  see  how  the 
haters  of  Monism  can,  without  blushing,  quote  Kabir  any 
longer  in  support  of  their  contention;  nor  how  the  apolo- 
gists for  Christianity  can  conjure  a  Trinity  out  of  him. 
His  world  of  "  Becoming  "  is  surely  the  world  of  Maya, 
of  Illusion.  And  the  world  of  Illusion,  like  Dr.  McTag- 
gart's  Absolute,  is  "  not  a  Person." 

As  for  '*  the  error  of  Dualism  " —  it  may  have  touched 
the  ingenious  Ramanuja ;  but  it  certainly  does  not  seem  to 
have  contaminated  Kabir.  In  his  world,  discussions  as  to 
individuality  lost,  or  individuality  preserved  have  little 
meaning. 

Ill 

Now  it  is  quite  clear  that  in  the  classics  of  Mysticism 
we  are  dealing  not  only  with  a  peculiar  kind  of  experience, 
but  with  a  peculiar  kind  of  genius.  And,  again,  having 
made  all  allowance  for  the  influence  of  "  mystical  ill- 
health,"  the  lover  of  literature  must  protest  against  the 
grossness  of  the  interpretations  that  have  been  brought  to 
these  texts.  The  writings  of  the  great  mystics  are  not  all 
charged  with  "  unsublimated  libido." 


286  A  DEFENCE  OF  IDEALISM 

I  do  not  see  how  we  can  deny  that  Julian  of  Norwich 
has  the  imagination  and  the  style  of  a  great  poet,  as  well 
as  the  temperament  of  a  saint.  Nobody  but  a  poet  could 
have  conceived  such  blending  of  loveliness  in  horror.  To 
bring  nothing  but  the  literalism  of  the  pathologist  to  bear 
on  her  Revelations  is  absurd.  Even  in  the  worst  instances 
• —  I  am  thinking  of  certain  utterances  of  Gertrude  of 
Eisleben,^^  of  the  Blessed  Angela  of  Foligno,  and  of 
Saint  Teresa  herself  —  there  is  a  perpetual  striving  after 
something  stronger  than  the  soul's  passive  blessedness,  and 
higher  than  its  voluptuous  spiritual  ecstasy.  This  excess 
of  feeling  demands  and  finds  expression ;  now  and  then  it 
flashes  into  metaphysical  intuition ;  again  it  crystallizes 
into  some  perfect  and  transparent  phrase ;  and  you  have 
the  beginning  of  a  naif  art;  and  where  art  is  there  is 
sublimation.  Thus  the  Blessed  Angela  says  that  the 
Divine  Love  "  came  towards  me  after  the  manner  of  a 
sickle.  Not  that  there  was  any  actual  and  reasonable 
likeness,  but  when  first  it  appeared  unto  me  it  did  not  give 
itself  unto  me  in  such  abundance  as  I  expected,  but  part 
of  it  was  withdrawn.  Therefore  do  I  say  after  the  man- 
ner of  a  sickle."  The  Blessed  Angela  may  or  may  not  be 
deceived  as  to  the  spiritual  nature  of  her  experience ;  how- 
ever that  may  be,  two  things  are  clear:  that  she  is  using 
the  language  of  poetic  imagination,  and  that  she  is  strug- 
gling with  almost  fantastic  honesty  for  precision  of  lan- 
guage and  of  thought.  It  seems  to  me  that,  whatever  their 
spiritual  value  may  be,  such  utterances  should  be  judged, 
not  with  the  crude  literalism  of  her  critics  and  of  her 
admirers,  but  with  the  liberal  judgment  accorded  to  works 
of  the  imagination. 

But  no.  Professor  Jung  finds  megalomania  in  an  an- 
cient Egyptian  text,  the  Hymn  of  the  ascending  soul,  pro- 
claiming its  unity  with  God. 

"  I  fim  tho  God  Atum,  I  who  alone  was, 
I  am  tho  Ciod  He  at  his  first  splendour, 


THE  NEW  MYSTICISM  287 

I  am  the  great  God,  self-created,  God  of  Gods, 
To  whom  no  other  God  compares." 

"My  impurity  is  driven  away,  and  the  sin  which  was  in  me 
is  overcome.  I  washed  myself  in  those  two  great  pools  of  water 
which  are  in  Heracleopolis,  in  which  is  purified  the  sacrifice  of 
mankind  for  the  great  God  who  abideth  there." 

"  Thou,  who  standest  before  me,  stretch  out  to  me  thy  hands ; 
it  is  I,  I  am  become  one  of  thee.  Daily  am  I  together  with 
my  Father  Atum."  ^^ 

He  finds  resurgent  lust  in  the  Brahman's  vision  of  the 
Absolute. 

"  The  person  (puriisha)  of  the  size  of  a  thumb,  stands  in  the 
middle  of  the  Self,  as  lord  of  the  past  and  the  future,  and 
henceforward  fears  no  more.     This  is  that. 

"  That  person,  of  the  size  of  a  thumb,  is  like  a  light  without 
smoke,  lord  of  the  past  and  future,  he  is  the  same  to-day  and 
to-morrow.     This  is  that."     (Eatha-Upanishad,  ii.  4.) 

"The  person  (purusha),  not  larger  than  a  thumb,  dwelling 
within,  always  dwelling  in  the  heart  of  man,  is  perceived  by  the 
heart,  the  thought,  the  mind ;  they  who  know  it  become  immor- 
tal."    (Svetdsvatara-Upanishad,  iii.  13.) 

Professor  Jung's  interpretation  of  these  passages  is  en- 
tirely Freudian.^^ 

At  this  rate  there  is  no  reason  why  he  should  not  find 
megalomania  and  resurgent  lust  in  Dedekind's  and  Can- 
tor's theories  of  the  Infinite,  or  in  Mr.  Bertrand  Russell's 
pursuit  of  the  Fourth  Dimension,  on  the  grounds  that  they 
involve  "  generation  of  series." 

We  have  admitted  that  Psychoanalysis  had  much  to  say ; 
but  when  it  has  said  it,  the  secret  of  mystic  passion  and  of 
mystic  certainty  remain  alike  insoluble.  Its  criticism 
rests  on  the  assumption  that  ends  have  the  same  form  as 
origins ;  which  is  contrary  not  only  to  evolution,  but  to  the 
psychoanalyst's  own  pet  theory  of  sublimation. 


288  A  DEFENCE  OF  IDEALISM 

But  this  arraignment  of  Mysticism  need  not  concern  us 
any  more.  It  only  applies  to  those  manifestations  that 
belong  to  the  transition  periods  of  its  childhood  and  its 
youth.  Where  they  persist,  they  persist  by  way  of  sur- 
vival or  reaction  or  disease,  and  they  are  doomed  to  dis- 
appear. 

For  if  we  are  right  in  supposing  that  what  is  super- 
normal consciousness  now  will  be  normal  consciousness 
some  day,  we  may  expect  its  perfection  to  be  reached  by 
forgetfulness  of  its  old  labour  and  effort,  unconscious- 
ness of  the  very  practice  that  will  have  made  it  perfect. 
Pantheistic  Mysticism  begins  where  Mysticisms  that  are 
not  pantheistic  end.  It  takes  for  granted  that,  as  between 
God  and  the  world,  the  Absolute  and  the  finite  selves, 
there  is  no  separation.  For  all  her  Catholic  sympathies, 
Evelyn  Underbill  is  a  pantheist  at  heart.  Witness  her 
"  Immanence  "  and  "  Theophanies." 

"  I  come  in  the  little  things 
Saith  the  Lord. 
Yea !     on  the  glancing  wings 
Of  eager  birds,  the  softly  pattering  feet 
Of  furred  and  gentle  beasts,  I  come  to  meet 
Your  hard  and  wayward  heart.     In  brown  bright  eyes 
That  peep  from  out  the  brake,  I  stand  confest. 
On  every  nest 

Where  feathery  Patience  is  content  to  brood 
And  leaves  her  pleasure  for  the  high  emprize 
Of  motherhood  there  doth  my  Godhead  rest." 

And  M.  Bergson,  though  his  logic  lands  him  sometimes 
in  an  upsetting  Dualism,  is  a  good  pantheist  at  heart. 
He  sees  as  the  mystic  sees,  that  the  Elan  Vital  is  the 
energy  of  one  Being  which  makes  matter  its  means  of 
manifestation,  its  vehicle,  its  tool.  He  sees  that  the  proc- 
ess of  Becoming  is  a  spiritual  process  of  ascension. 

Thus,  though  we  cannot  say  what  the  Mysticism  of  the 
future  will  be,  we  may  be  pretty  sure  what  it  will  not  be. 


THE  NEW  MYSTICISM  289 

It  will  not  be  sickly ;  it  will  not  be  morbid  and  hysterical, 
or  sentimental.  In  exchanging  God  the  Father  for  God 
the  Absolute  Self,  it  will  have  lost  that  irresponsible  de- 
pendence which  has  kept  men  and  women  for  centuries  in 
a  pathetic  infancy.  Sooner  or  later  the  mystic  has  to  grow 
up  like  other  people.  He  will  know  that  he  fulfils  the 
absolute  purpose  best  by  trying  to  become,  as  far  as  pos- 
sible, a  self-determined  being.  He  knows  already  that,  if 
"  auto-suggestion  "  is  anything  at  all,  it  is  self-determina- 
tion. 

And  he  will  not  be  violent.  "  The  Kingdom  of  Heaven 
suffereth  violence  until  now,  and  the  violent  take  it  by 
force."  That  was  where  the  imperfect  mystic  made  his 
great  mistake.  Just  as  primitive  man  desired  to  get  by 
magic  physical  things  that  would  have  come  to  him  with- 
out it  of  their  own  accord,  in  due  season,  so  the  imperfect 
mystic  desires  to  get  spiritual  things  by  mysticism  that  will 
come  to  him  without  it  of  their  own  accord  in  due  season. 
The  savage  is  trying  to  force  Nature's  hand.  The  im- 
perfect mystic  is  trying  to  force  God's  hand. 

Not  so  the  accomplished  lover  of  the  Absolute.  His 
passion  may  be  overpowering  and  importunate,  but  not 
its  method.  He  will  not  forestall  its  perfect  consumma- 
tion by  one  hour.  The  more  certain  he  is,  the  more  he 
can  afford  to  wait. 

"  Kabir  says :  ..  .  .  stay  where  you  are,  and  all  things 
shall  come  to  you  in  time." 


yiii 

CONCLUSION'S 

It  is  clear  that  we  have  to  choose  between  some  form  of 
Pluralism  and  Monism. 

There  is  nothing  new  in  this.  It  is  the  old  problem  and 
the  old  choice  that  has  lain  before  Philosophy  in  the  be- 
ginning; but  with  this  difference,  that  whereas  Philosophy 
had  no  valid  grounds  for  a  conclusion  as  long  as  it  travelled 
on  the  "  high  priori  road,"  it  is  now  in  a  rather  better 
position  for  bringing  its  conclusions  to  the  test  of  expe- 
rience. 

It  is  not,  and  it  cannot  be,  a  question  of  certainty.  No 
reasonable  person  demands  certainty  at  this  time  of  day. 
The  utmost  he  is  entitled  to  demand  is  a  certain  balance 
of  probabilities.  Perhaps  not  even  that.  Perhaps  only 
here  a  balance  and  there  a  chance,  and  there,  again,  an 
off-chance,  a  bare  possibility. 

So,  instead  of  asking  Which  conclusion  is  the  more 
certain  ?  we  may  only  ask  Which  hypothesis.  Pluralism 
or  Monism,  is  the  more  likely,  the  more  in  keeping  with 
the  facts  ? 

This  is  not  a  pragmatic  question,  nor  is  it  a  pragmatic 
test.  It  is  not  to  be  confused  with  the  demand  that  meta- 
physical truth  should  square  with  the  requirements  of 
human  conduct.  By  the  "  facts  "  I  do  not  mean  merely 
the  facts  of  life.  I  mean  the  sum  total  of  our  knowledge, 
or  knowledges  up  to  date.  Our  knowledge  of  conscious- 
ness and  our  knowledge  of  knowledge  must  take  their 
place  in  the  collection,  together  with  our  knowledge  of 
the  so-called  external  world. 

The  facts,  therefore,  will  not  all  stand  on  an  equal  foot- 

290 


CONCLUSIONS  291 

mg.     The  -ultimate  appeal  must  always  be  to  the  knowl- 
edge of  knowledge. 

If  the  facts  favour  one  hypothesis  more  than  the  other, 
then  we  may  ask  further,  which  hypothesis  has  the  better 
metaphysical  support  ?  If  we  are  lucky  enough  to  get  a 
reasonable  conformity  on  all  heads,  then  and  not  till  then 
we  may  ask  further  which  hypothesis,  Pluralism  or 
Monism,  is  on  the  whole  more  satisfying  to  collective 
human  emotion  and  to  the  moral  sense  ?  And  we  must 
be  very  careful  that  by  these  we  do  not  mean  "  more  satis- 
fying to  me." 

At  first  sight  it  looks  as  if  Pluralism  had  all  the  facts 
on  its  side.  It  can  point  to  a  universe  in  which  the  earth 
is  a  comparatively  insignificant  dot  on  a  field  covered 
with  several  million  heavenly  bodies,  a  physical  universe 
of  apparently  unending  multiplicity,  of  apparently  un- 
ceasing change  and  flux.  It  can  break  up  the  flux  itself 
into  an  infinity  of  elements  of  which  you  can  only  say 
that  each  is  where  it  is  at  the  instant  when  it  is.  Suppos- 
ing matter  to  be  made  up  of  an  infinite  number  of  atoms 
(or,  if  you  like,  of  electrons),  it  cannot  be  said  with  posi- 
tive certainty  that  any  atom  yet  discovered  is  ultimate 
and  indivisible.  Pluralism  can  refer  us  to  a  world  of 
selves,  of  psychic  entities,  whose  chief  distinction  is  that 
they  repel  and  repudiate  each  other,  besides  harbouring  a 
host  of  conflicting  instincts,  desires,  and  memories,  whose 
presence  makes  for  continual  disruption ;  consciousness  it- 
self abounding  with  irreconcilable  multiplicities.  Fore- 
most among  these  are  pain  and  evil,  which  outrage  every 
just  and  compassionate  and  holy  instinct  of  the  selves. 

Pluralism  can  even  insist  with  considerable  plausibility 
on  a  final  and  irreconcilable  dualism  between  these  two 
worlds. 

And  its  very  Logic,  its  knowledge  of  knowledge,  is 
atomistic. 


292  A  DEFENCE  OF  IDEALISM 

And  yet  the  Pluralist  himself  must  admit  that  this  is 
an  inadequate  and  superficial  view  of  the  facts.  The 
more  we  explore  this  multiplicity,  the  more  it  reveals  the 
secret  of  its  unity.  And  this  unity  is  not  simply  imposed 
on  multiplicity  by  immediate  consciousness  and  by  the 
laws  of  thought.  It  is  not  only  a  question  of  the  way  we 
are  obliged  to  think  things,  but  of  the  way  things  behave. 
Every  generalization  of  physical  science,  and  every  corre- 
lation of  physical  laws,  amounts  to  a  plain  statement  that 
within  the  range  of  the  generalization  the  order  of  things 
is  one.  The  law  of  conservation  of  energy  is  nothing  if 
not  a  confession  that,  as  far  as  the  physical  world  goes, 
incorrigible  multiplicity  and  difference  do  not  obtain.  It 
would  even  seem  that,  ultimately,  the  entire  physical 
world  is  definable  in  terms  of  energy.  And  if  the  ulti- 
mate constitution  of  matter  is  invisible,  imponderable,  im- 
palpable to  any  sense  (its  density  disappeared  long  ago)  ; 
if  all  the  grossness,  all  the  heaviness  and  hardness,  all  the 
intractable  lumpiness  of  matter,  all  its  so-called  material 
qualities  are  not  to  be  found  in  it,  but  only  in  our  con- 
sciousness of  it,  we  need  no  longer  juggle  with  terms  that 
are  so  interchangeable.  The  realist  and  idealist  are  both 
agreed  that  there  is  no  physical  It  behind  those  qualities. 
And  unless  we  are  satisfied  that  he  is  right  in  contending 
that  they  exist,  "  on  their  own,"  we  may  as  well  say  straight 
out  that  these  two  worlds,  anyhow,  are  one ;  and  that  the 
ultimate  reality  of  "  matter  "  is  spiritual  energy. 

We  have  seen  that  it  is  his  implacable  moral  conscious- 
ness that  urges  the  Pragmatist  to  plant  his  Pluralism  in 
the  very  heart  of  reality  itself;  and  to  insist  that  there  is 
no  ultimate  spiritual  energy,  one  in  many  forms,  but  that 
there  are  as  many  energies  as  there  are  forms,  and  that 
spiritual  energy  is  only  one  of  them.  I  hope  it  has  also 
been  seen  how  his  moral  consciousness  goes  back  on  him, 
and  lands  him  in  the  oneness  he  abhors. 

And  in  the  world  of  living  organisms,  before  a  moral 


CONCLUSIONS  293 

consciousness  was  ever  heard  of,  we  saw  that  the  Life- 
Force,  the  Will-to-live,  revealed  itself  in  the  process  of 
evolution  as  one  indestructible  energy,  and  one  desire 
striving  for  fulfilment  and  for  sublimation,  an  energy 
made  manifest  in  such  forms  and  in  such  a  manner  as  to 
declare  its  spiritual  source.  We  saw  that  the  mere  phy- 
sical process  was  only  intelligible  if  we  admitted  the 
psychic  factors  of  desire  and  design.  We  saw  the  growth 
and  building  up  and  shaping  of  the  organism  by  the 
psyche  for  its  own  ends.  We  saw  that  desire  and  design 
and  performance  were  only  intelligible  if  we  presupposed 
a  self  that  is  something  over  and  above  its  memory.  We 
saw  that  biology,  so  far  from  merging  the  individual  self 
in  its  own  ancestral  heritage,  presupposes  its  independ- 
ence and  its  supreme  importance  as  a  factor  in  heredity 
itself. 

We  found  confirmation  of  this  view,  where  we  least  ex- 
pected it,  in  the  facts  of  psychopathology  and  the  results 
of  psychoanalysis.  They  showed  us  one  indestructible 
primal  energy  at  work  in  all  the  functions  of  the  psyche. 
They  showed  the  persistent  symbols  of  its  presence 
throughout  the  whole  region  of  the  "  unconscious."  They 
showed  that  all  aberrations  and  perversions  are  rever- 
sions, the  turning  back  of  the  individual  on  the  ancestral 
paths  by  which  he  came.  They  also  showed  by  what 
processes  of  sublimation  he  asserts  himself  against  the 
backward  pull  of  the  instincts  that  tend  to  merge  him 
with  the  race. 

Again,  Psychology,  besides  endorsing  the  biological 
evidence,  showed  us  that  consciousness  is  a  unity  that 
could  hardly  be  if  there  were  no  self  over  and  above  con- 
sciousness, unaffected  by  its  multiplicity,  its  change  and 
flux.  We  found  that  the  self  is  not  passive,  and  that 
thought  has  its  own  energetic  way  of  dealing  vrith  the 
stuff  of  consciousness;  that  it  multiplies  and  divides, 
makes  finite  and  makes  infinite,  and  that  of  all  that  it 


294  A  DEFENCE  OF  IDEALISM 

scatters  it  gathers  again.  Apart  from  the  work  of 
thought,  we  found  that  the  stuff  of  consciousness  is  not 
divided;  that  it  is  given  in  a  continuous  unity;  that  its 
sequences  overlap;  and  that  states  of  consciousness  have 
more  than  sequence;  as  William  James  says,  they  have 
"  thickness."  And  we  saw  that  if  anything  ever  was  one 
it  is  this  thickness. 

We  found  that  here  our  choice  lay  between  Animism 
and  Psychophysical  Parallelism.  We  saw  how  the  Dual- 
ism of  the  parallelist  broke  down  under  an  examination 
of  the  psychophysical  facts. 

We  also  found  that  Psychology  was  powerless  to  solve 
its  own  problems,  and  flung  us  back  on  Metaphysics.  We 
had  then  to  choose  between  some  form  of  Pluralism  and 
Monism.  We  were  obliged  to  dismiss  all  a  priori  argu- 
ments for  Monism  as  worthless,  so  long  as  they  remained 
unsupported  by  actual  experience,  and  so  long  as  they 
left  whole  tracts  of  experience  out  of  their  account.  But 
so  far  as  they  explain  experience,  and  so  far  as  experience 
corroborates  them,  they  are  not  to  be  lightly  set  aside. 
After  all,  our  way  of  thinking  justifies  itself.  Where 
the  necessities  of  thought  agree  with  the  necessities  im- 
plied by  the  behaviour  of  consciousness  and  the  behaviour 
of  things,  they  must  count  as  real  necessities.  Our  prob- 
lem then  was:  Is  unity  or  is  boundless  multiplicity  the 
supreme  necessity  of  thought  ? 

Comparing  one  philosophical  system  with  another,  we 
thought  we  saw  that  the  end  and  goal  of  the  metaphy- 
sical quest  has  been  mainly  one  ultimate  principle,  rather 
than  two  or  more  ultimate  principles.  We  found  this 
secret  passion  for  the  Absolute  and  the  One  breaking  out 
in  the  very  Dualisms  that  repudiated  it;  and  we  traced 
the  root  and  the  cause  of  all  philosophical  dilemmas  to 
the  search  for  oneness  and  for  ultimate  reality  in  the 
wrong  place.     Pragmatism  and  Humanism  stood  out  as 


CONCLUSIONS  295 

the  great  exceptions.  If  you  cannot  say  that  they  have 
looked  for  ultimate  reality  in  the  wrong  place,  since  they 
were  not  looking  for  it  at  all,  they  have  looked  on  at  the 
usurpation  of  its  place  and  power.  And  Pragmatism  be- 
trayed its  own  inherent  dilemmas. 

On  the  balance  of  the  evidence  before  us,  we  were 
driven  to  the  conclusion  that  the  ultimate  reality  of 
things  and  the  ultimate  reality  of  consciousness  is  one; 
and  that  this  one  reality  is  Spirit. 

We  might  have  rested  there,  complacent  and  happy,  but 
for  the  New  Eealism  whose  violence  took  our  kingdom  of 
heaven  by  storm. 

And  so  our  problem  narrowed  itself  down.  We  had  to 
choose  between  our  Spiritualistic  Monism  and  this  par- 
ticular brand  of  Eealistic  Pluralism. 

We  distinguished  between  the  premisses  and  the  conclu- 
sions of  the  New  Eealism ;  between  its  science  and  its  sys- 
tem; and  again  between  its  construction  and  its  critique. 
We  found  that  while  much  of  its  critique  must  be  of  en- 
during value  in  philosophy,  it  applied  rather  to  the 
pseudo-monisms  than  to  ours.  We  found  that,  though  its 
foundations  were  sure  as  the  axioms  of  pure  mathematics 
and  of  Analytic  Logic  could  make  them,  the  superstruc- 
tures reared  on  this  imposing  base  were  somewhat  lacking 
in  coherence  and  solidity.  We  found  that  in  applying 
the  axioms  and  conclusions  of  the  mathematical  and  phy- 
sical sciences  as  a  test  of  the  reality  of  phenomena,  it  has 
brought  us  no  nearer  to  the  root  of  the  question  in  debate 
—  the  nature  of  ultimate  reality.  And  though  we  were 
prepared  to  admit  it  was  within  its  rights  in  renouncing 
the  quest  of  ultimate  reality,  we  found  that  it  failed  to 
establish  its  negative  conclusions  beyond  the  reach  of 
doubt;  and  that  its  positive  conclusions  yielded  contra- 
dictions every  bit  as  compromising  (to  it)  as  those  it  un- 
dertook to  solve. 


296  A  DEFENCE  OE  IDEALISM 

We  also  saw  that  it  was  possible  to  state  the  principle 
of  Spiritualistic  Monism  in  terms  which  at  any  rate  ex- 
clude contradiction. 

Thus  we  conceded  that,  as  a  restatement  of  mathemati- 
cal and  logical  first  principles,  the  New  Realism  is  almost 
as  impregnable  as  it  professes  to  be.  But,  in  spite  of  its 
combined  air  of  certainty  and  scientific  caution,  we  could 
not  admit  that  as  a  system  of  metaphysics  it  justifies  its 
existence  better  than  other  philosophies  that  plunge. 

Therefore  my  imaginary  monist  refused  to  relinquish 
the  principle  he  (perhaps  rashly)  stakes  his  all  on.  He 
refused  to  be  driven  from  his  position  by  the  multiplicity 
of  anything  that  Pluralism,  or  Science  for  that  matter, 
has  to  show.  He  is  not  going  to  be  scared  out  of  it  by  the 
bluff  of  physical  Atomism.  He  does  not  care  how  many 
elements  are  involved  in  magnetic  force,  or  how  many 
tricks  the  physicist's  mysterious  electrons  play  him. 
Why  should  he  ?  Once  his  Absolute  starts  the  business 
of  appearing,  a  little  multiplicity  more  or  less  cannot 
break  it.  He  would  not  be  greatly  distressed  if  the  law 
of  conservation  of  energy  were  exploded  to-morrow,  as  it 
very  well  may  be.  It  does  not  matter  to  him  how  many 
appearances  and  laws  of  appearances  there  may  be  — 
two  or  three  million,  or  an  infinite  number.  If  anything, 
he  prefers  an  infinite  number,  because  it  provides  him 
with  the  reassuring  contradictions  he  is  looking  for. 

It  will  be  said  of  my  monist  that  he  cannot  clear  him- 
self of  one  reproach :  from  first  to  last  he  is  only  juggling 
with  the  unity  of  consciousness,  which  his  opponents  do 
not  admit  to  be  a  unity  at  all.  And  he  must  admit, 
not  that  he  has  helped  himself  to  the  unity  of  conscious- 
ness, but  that  the  unity  of  consciousness  has  helped  him 
considerably.  It  is  only  not  a  unity  if  you  adopt  the  ex- 
treme realistic  theory  of  knowledge,  which  he  thinks  he 
has  shown  good  reason  for  repudiating.     It  is  the  only 


CONCLUSIONS  297 

thorough-going  unity  he  knows.  He  finds  this  unity,  not 
in  or  among  his  states  of  consciousness,  shaken  about  with 
them  in  the  same  bag,  as  it  were,  but  in  the  irreducible, 
ultimate  fact  of  selfhood.  He  finds  that  the  Self  resists 
all  attempts  to  analyse  it  into  the  separate  states  or  stages 
of  its  own  consciousness ;  that  it  is  more  than  the  sum  of 
these  states ;  more,  that  is  to  say,  than  consciousness. 

To  this  Something  More  he  gives  the  name  of  Spirit ; 
for  the  reason  that  while,  in  ultimate  analysis,  matter 
may  be  resolvable  into  terms  of  immaterial  being;  spirit, 
or  self,  is  not  by  any  means  so  resolvable  into  terms  of 
matter. 

Before  Monism  can  work  it  must  have  a  principle  which 
shall  be  both  static  and  dynamic.  But  as  long  as  the 
monist  was  tied  to  his  bare  epistemology,  he  could  find  no 
means  of  defining  "  Thought,"  so  as  to  include  in  it 
things  that  are  not  "  thoughts."  To  say  that  "  Thought 
thinks  itself "  is  not  enough.  From  the  unsubstantial 
forms  of  its  thinking  it  can  build  no  bridge  from  its  own 
world  to  the  world  where  things  are  and  are  done.  But 
Spirit  can  be  supposed  to  do  things.  He  can  define  it  as 
that  which  thinks,  and  wills,  and  energizes  in  one  un- 
divided act.  His  principle  is  as  static  and  dynamic  as  he 
pleases. 

If  he  is  asked  whether  he  has  any  precise  conception  of 
the  principle  to  which  he  gives  the  name  of  Spirit,  he 
can  at  least  answer  that  his  definition  amounts  to  a  fairly 
precise  conception. 

If  he  is  asked  if  he  has  any  conception  at  all  of  the 
ultimate  nature  of  Self  or  Spirit,  he  can  retort  that  he 
has  no  more  conception  of  the  ultimate  nature  of  Self  or 
Spirit  than  the  new  realist  has  of  the  ultimate  constitu- 
tion of  matter,  or  of  consciousness,  or  of  universals ;  and 
lie  claims  the  realist's  right  not  to  go  behind  reality;  but 
to  regard  it  as  itself  ultimate  and  irreducible. 

If  he  is  asked  how  he  proposes  to  justify  his  leap  from 


S98  A  DEFENCE  OE  IDEALISM 

the  presumably  finite  and  relative  self  or  spirit,  of  which 
he  has  a  more  or  less  precise  conception,  to  the  Self  or 
Spirit  he  has  declared  to  be  absolute,  he  must  own  that  he 
is  not  justified  in  making  any  leap.  He  can  only  say  that 
in  the  unity  of  his  own  consciousness  the  term  spirit  covers 
will  and  action  and  passion,  as  well  as  thought  and  sense. 
He  finds  that  love  and  thought  and  will  behave  as  ener- 
gies, as  motive  powers,  or  even  as  causes,  within  the  unity 
of  his  consciousness.  He  has  every  reason  for  concluding 
that  they  behave  as  energies  and  motive  powers  or  even  as 
causes  in  other  consciousnesses  besides  his  own.  And  he 
sees  no  reason  why  they  should  not  behave  with  greater 
energy  and  motive  power  and  causal  efficiency  within 
greater  consciousnesses  than  his  or  other  people's.  He 
finds  that  the  behaviour  of  this  finite  and  relative  con- 
sciousness of  his,  its  knowledge  and  its  relation  to  its 
knowledge,  are  inexplicable  without  the  assumption  of  an 
infinite  and  absolute  consciousness,  as  the  ground  of  all  its 
knowing.  He  finds  that  the  very  existence  of  his  self  is 
inexplicable  without  the  assumption  of  an  absolute,  self- 
subsisting  Self,  as  the  ground  of  its  existence  and  his  real 
Self.  And  he  sees  no  reason  why  the  spiritual  energies 
of  such  a  Self  should  not  be  equal  to  the  evolution  of  such 
manifestations  as  this  spectacular  universe  and  its  spec- 
tators. 

In  the  matter  of  manifestation  he  knows  that,  if  his 
own  self  is  to  know  itself  and  to  make  itself  known,  it 
must  think  and  feel  and  will  and  act  through  forms  and 
forces  that  are  called  material.  And  so  he  sees  no  reason 
why  the  Absolute  Spirit,  his  real  Self,  desiring  to  know 
itself,  and  to  make  itself  known,  should  not  manifest  it- 
self also  through  forms  and  forces  that  are  called  material. 

He  sees  no  reason  why  not;  and  nobody  has  yet  ad- 
vanced any  really  valid  and  satisfactory  reason  why 
not. 

If  this  is  to  juggle,  he  juggles. 


CONCLUSIONS  299 

No  really  valid  reason  why  not.  But  one  apparently 
valid  reason,  which  is  the  crux  of  Pantheism :  the  alleged 
absurdity  of  a  reality  knowing  itself  and  making  itself 
known  through  what  is,  after  all,  an  endless  procession  of 
spectacular  illusions.  At  this  rate,  it  may  be  said,  the 
Absolute  is  juggling,  too.  And  there  is  a  sort  of  general 
feeling  that  it  is  beneath  its  dignity  to  juggle. 

Now  it  is  pretty  certain,  judging  by  appearances,  that 
if  the  Absolute  had  stood  on  its  dignity  it  would  never 
have  appeared  at  all.  It  is  also  certain  that,  so  far  as 
there  is  any  meaning  in  this  objection,  it  is  our  sense  of 
dignity  that  is  offended.  And  our  sense  of  dignity  is 
part  of  the  illusion. 

Still,  a  talent  for  producing  endless  illusions  about  it- 
self does  seem  incompatible  with  a  veracious  Eeality. 
We  might,  of  course,  credit  Reality  with  the  utmost 
veracity  of  its  absolute  and  transcendent  Self,  and  charge 
all  the  illusion  to  the  account  of  the  finite  selves.  But 
the  trouble  is  that,  on  the  theory,  Reality  is  also  supposed 
to  be  appearing  to  itself,  getting  to  know  itself,  introduc- 
ing itself  to  itself,  as  it  were,  through  an  endless  round  of 
cosmic  "  At  Homes." 

If  the  round  is  really  endless,  it  cannot,  any  more  than 
a  finite  self,  succeed  in  completely  making  its  own  ac- 
quaintance. And  the  pluralist  has  every  right  to  ask  the 
monist  what  he  is  going  to  do  about  it. 

Now,  I  think,  it  must  be  o\vned  that  this  endless  pro- 
cession, or  series  of  manifestations  does  land  the  monist 
in  a  very  awkward  predicament,  if  he  really  means  that  a 
complete  knowledge  of  every  single  one  of  its  finite  mani- 
festations in  time  is  necessary  to  the  Self's  absolute 
knowledge  of  itself.  The  only  thing  he  can  do  is  not  to 
take  that  line.  His  only  possible  reply  is,  that  on  Real- 
ism's own  showing,  knowledge  depends  on  universals,  not 
on  simple  enumeration  of  particulars ;  and  that,  if  it  is 
not  necessary  for  a  finite  self  to  reel  off  a  list  of  all  the 


300  A  DEFENCE  OF  IDEALISM 

particulars  it  knows,  before  it  can  be  said  to  know  any- 
thing, it  must  be  still  more  unnecessary  for  an  absolute 
and  infinite  Self  to  know  every  single  one  of  its  mani- 
festations before  it  knows  Itself.  On  the  contrary,  just 
because  it  is  absolute,  as  well  as  infinite,  it  must  be  sup- 
posed to  know  itself  completely  at  each  instant  of  its 
manifestation. 

There  are,  however,  considerable  difficulties  about  an 
Absolute  Reality  that  insists  on  publishing  itself,  as  it 
were,  in  serial  instalments.  But  I  think  they  must  be 
charged  to  the  account  of  the  finite  selves,  who  are  obliged 
to  "  take  in  "  their  Absolute  in  serial  form.  They  arise 
from  our  persistent  habit  of  regarding  the  Self's  knowl- 
edge of  the  finite  as  a  finite  knowledge,  and  its  passage 
through  time  as  part  of  its  eternity. 

Practically  the  reverse  problem  is  presented  by  the 
existence  of  evil.  The  pragmatist  complains  that  you  are 
^  taking  a  moral  holiday  "  if  you  refuse  to  regard  such 
things  as  badness,  and  nastiness,  and  silliness,  and  ugli- 
ness, and  a  kick  in  the  ribs,  as  so  many  knock-you-dovni 
arguments  against  Monism. 

Well,  you  have  not  got  to  take  a  moral  holiday  to  see 
that  they  are  staggering  facers  for  the  realist,  who  regards 
them  as  eternal  and  immutable  realities.  The  realist 
having,  apparently,  no  other  outlet  for  his  cosmic  emo- 
tion, grows  almost  lyrical  over  his  incorruptible  world  of 
the  universals,  enduring  for  ever  and  ever,  out  of  space, 
out  of  time,  in  their  stainless,  intangible  perfection.  But, 
if  goodness,  and  niceness,  and  wisdom,  and  loveliness,  and 
the  absence  of  a  kick  in  the  ribs,  are  realities  that  endure 
for  ever  and  ever,  so  are  badness  and  nastiness  and  the 
rest  of  it.  I  do  not  know  how  the  realist  contrives  to  have 
his  emotion.  I  suppose  he  just  thinks  of  Beauty  and 
Goodness  sitting  up  there,  and  tries  to  forget  that  his 
wife's  temper  and  the  kitchen  saucepan  are  sitting  there. 


CONCLUSIONS  301 

too.  He  cannot  conjure  them  out  of  his  universe  by  any 
juggling.     They  are  absolute.     He  has  said  it. 

What  is  even  worse,  every  particular  instance  of  bad- 
ness and  nastiness  and  silliness  is  absolute  too.  The  real- 
ist may  say  that  silliness  is  not  silly,  but  what  he  means 
is  that  it  is  something  far  sillier. 

But  the  monist  saves  the  essential  cleanness  and  sanity 
of  the  universe  in  denying  that  nastiness  and  silliness  and 
a  kick  in  the  ribs  subsist,  as  such,  and  as  realities,  in  the 
transcendent  life  of  Spirit.  He  denies  that  the  Absolute 
is  obliged  to  listen  for  ever  and  ever  to  the  stories  that 
Brown  tells  Kobinson  when  Mrs.  Eobinson  has  left  the 
room.  If,  in  the  infinite  reverberations  of  the  universe, 
there  endure  infinite  echoes  of  Brown's  story,  they  are 
echoes  that  only  finite  and  incarnate  spirits  catch. 

And  if  you  insist  that,  as  immanent  in  the  finite  and 
all  too  incarnate  spirit  of  Robinson,  the  Absolute  has 
heard  Brown's  story  and  enjoyed  it;  and  that,  as  imma- 
nent in  the  finite  spirit  of  Brown,  it  has  also  told  it,  the 
monist  will  have  no  objection;  provided  you  add  that,  as 
immanent  in  the  person  of  Mrs.  Eobinson,  it  has  disap- 
proved of  it  (and  of  Brown,  and  of  Eobinson)  severely. 

He  might  go  farther  and  afiirm  that  there  is  justifica- 
tion for  the  apparently  incredible  and  inexcusable  exist- 
ence of  Brown  and  Eobinson.  Light  is  thrown  on  their 
mystery  by  the  existence  of  Mrs.  Eobinson,  whose  spir- 
itual beauty  is  set  off  and  made  more  desirable  by  con- 
trast, whose  spiritual  strength  grows  by  exercise  in  the 
gymnasium  of  spiritual  adversity  that  marriage  to  Eobin- 
son provides  for  her. 

"  Why  rushed  the  discords  in  but  that  harmony  should  be 
prized  ? " 

That  —  the  dependence  of  goodness  upon  evil,  the  en- 
durance of  evil  for  the  sake  of  good  —  was  the  old  Ideal- 


302  A  DEFENCE  OF  IDEALISM 

ism's  solution  of  the  moral  problem.     Not  a  bad  solution, 
as  far  as  it  went,  whenever  you  could  get  it  to  go. 

"  The  evil  is  null,  is  nought,  is  silence  implying  sound." 

Yes;  it  is  all  very  soul-stirring  and  uplifting;  but  it  is 
not  true  in  the  world  where  its  truth  matters;  this  tragic 
world  of  space  and  time.  The  pleasant  fancy  of  evil  as 
negation  is  no  more  convincing  to  a  logical  mind  than  it 
is  consoling  and  satisfying  to  the  unreasoning  heart.  It 
won't  work.  It  won't  wash.  Go  to  the  victims  of  war 
and  pestilence,  and  tell  them  that  their  torment  is  only 
the  opposite  of  rapture.  Tell  a  starving  population  that 
its  hunger  is  merely  the  absence  of  satisfaction.  Tell  the 
sweated  workers  in  the  East  End  that  their  poverty  is 
purely  relative  to  affluence,  and  but  subserves  another's 
gain;  tell  a  mother  who  has  just  lost  her  only  son  that 
bereavement  is  simply  the  negation  of  possession,  and  see 
how  it  washes  and  works. 

Besides,  if  you  are  going  to  take  it  that  way,  goodness 
will  be  null  in  itself,  will  be  nought  in  itself,  will  be 
sound  implying  silence,  and  depending  on  silence. 

There  is  nothing  to  be  said  for  pain  and  evil,  thus  de- 
vitalized. You  have  robbed  them  of  their  only  title  to 
existence  when  you  have  taken  away  their  positive  and 
stimulating  character,  their  antagonism,  their  brave, 
stoic  challenge  to  the  fighter.  They  are  not  negative. 
They  are  tremendous  powers.  They  call  forth  all  the 
stern  virtues  and  all  the  tendernesses  that  without  them 
could  not  have  been.  They  make  and  remake  the  souls  of 
saints  and  heroes.  By  even  sordid  suffering,  decently 
borne,  the  humblest  and  most  insignificant  soul  may  be 
exalted. 

You  may  know  that  all  this  is  true.  You  may  know 
that  great  suffering,  great  adversity,  may  be  the  greatest 
and  the  best  thing  that  can  happen  to  anybody.  You  may 
know  that  your  own  suffering,  your  own  adversity  was 


CONCLUSIONS  303 

the  best  thing  that  could  have  happened  to  you;  and  you 
would  not,  if  you  could,  have  spared  yourself  one  single 
pang  of  it.  But  you  also  know  that  there  are  vast  mil- 
lions of  other  people  for  whom  suffering  and  adversity 
are  not  good  at  all;  for  whom  none  of  these  truths  are 
true.  And  when  all  is  said  and  done,  it  is  intolerable 
that  these  people  should  suffer.  It  is  intolerable  that 
the  heroic  and  tender  virtues  of  a  few  superior  persons 
should  be  nourished  on  the  sufferings  of  these  millions. 
It  is  really  paying  too  big  a  price  for  individual  virtue. 
Nobody  has  any  right  to  be  either  compassionate  or  heroic 
at  his  or  her  neighbour's  expense.  And  no  theory  can 
make  it  tolerable. 

But  it  may  be  more  intolerable  on  one  theory  than  on 
another.  And  it  is  most  intolerable  on  the  theory  that 
makes  pain  and  evil  real  and  absolute  and  eternal,  and 
that  allows  for  no  vision  of  any  state  of  being  in  which 
they  cease  to  be.  The  one  thing  that  helps  us  to  endur- 
ance is  our  sense  that  pain  and  evil  have  not,  after  all,  an 
immortal  life.  The  one  thing  that  makes  them  intelli- 
gible is  the  assumption  that  the  only  life  they  have  is  an 
unreal  one.  The  one  thing  that  would  make  them  bear- 
able would  be  the  unshaken  conviction  that  we  have  an 
immortal  life  in  which  they  are  overcome;  in  which  we 
receive,  or  make  for  ourselves,  or  give  to  others  whom  we 
have  injured,  compensation. 

(The  demand  for  compensation  is  a  humanistic  and 
pragmatic  demand,  and  belongs  to  another  line  of  argu- 
ment altogether.) 

Of  purely  metaphysical  theories,  Monism  is  the  only 
one  that  supports  our  sense  of  the  illusion  of  evil  and  the 
assumption  of  its  unreality. 

Now,  true  as  it  may  be,  his  theory  of  the  mere  relativity 
of  evil  does  not  carry  the  monist  very  far.  Still,  as  long 
as  he  had  no  other  solution  of  the  problem,  he  was  glad 
enough  to  be  delivered  from  the  horror  of  real  evil,  eter- 


304  A  DEFENCE  OF  IDEALISM 

nalized  and  absolute,  even  at  the  cost  of  parting  for  ever 
with  real  good,  eternalized  and  absolute. 

But  this  awful  choice  is  no  longer  binding  on  him. 

The  New  Eealism  has  taught  him  how  he  may  raise  up 
the  New  Idealism  on  the  ruins  of  the  old. 

He  is  dead  right  about  the  relativity  of  the  evil  that 
we  know.  The  goods  and  evils  of  our  earthly  life  are 
purely  relative  both  to  each  other  and  to  human  condi- 
tions. They  are  even  interchangeable.  Goodness  may 
be  sought  for,  now  in  this  set  of  actions,  now  in  that.  It 
may  be  attached  to  things  once  accounted  evil.  Evil  may 
be  attached  to  things  once  accounted  good.  Goodness  it- 
self remains  as  an  eternal  and  immutable  Idea. 

It  may  or  it  may  not  be  real.  The  finite  selves  do  not 
know  it  as  a  reality.  They  only  know  it  as  a  mysterious 
logical  function  by  which  its  appearances  are  recognized 
and  known.  What  it  may  be  in  itself  or  "  in  the  Abso- 
lute "  they  do  not  know. 

Badness  also  remains  as  an  eternal  and  immutable  Idea. 
So  that  we  do  not  seem  to  have  gained  much.  But  we 
have  gained  this,  that  we  are  not  compelled  to  attribute 
reality  to  badness.  It  also  is,  for  us,  the  mysterious  and 
harmless  logical  function  by  which  its  appearances  are 
recognized  and  known.  What  it  may  be  in  itself,  or  ''  in 
the  Absolute  "  the  finite  selves  do  not  know. 

They  only  know  (and  this  is  our  immense  gain)  that 
in  themselves,  or  in  the  Absolute,  Goodness  and  Badness 
are  no  longer  relative  to  each  other. 

Therefore  it  will  not  follow  that  if  one  is  real  in  the 
Absolute  Self,  the  other  also  is  real ;  and  that  if  one  is 
the  complete  and  perfect  expression  of  the  transcendent 
nature  of  that  Self,  the  other  is  its  complete  and  perfect 
expression.  It  will  not  follow  that,  if  Goodness  is  all 
powerful,  Badness  is  all  powerful  too.  It  will  not  follow 
that  badness  is  more  than  the  logical  function  of  knowl- 
edge we  already  know  it  to  be. 


CONCLUSIONS  305 

But  all  these  consequences  follow,  rigorously  and  in- 
evitably, from  the  realistic  theory  of  universals.  The 
New  Realism  closes  the  door  to  any  possibility  that  the 
lovers  of  Goodness  can  endure  to  contemplate. 

The  New  Idealism  leaves  the  door  open  to  our  vision 
of  Goodness,  Beauty,  and  Truth,  eternal  and  real,  sur- 
passing all  goods  and  beauties  and  truths  we  know;  in- 
corruptible ;  inassailable  by  evil. 

It  may  be  that  some  universals  are  only  logical  func- 
tions, and  that  such  Ideas  will  have  no  more  than  a  poten- 
tial immortality,  and  that  evil,  ugliness,  and  the  rest  may 
be  such  Ideas.  So  that,  for  a  Self  that  refused  to  know 
evil  and  ugliness,  or  had  no  longer  any  use  for  such 
knowledge,  evil  and  ugliness  would  literally  not  be. 

We  have  seen  that  the  old  Idealism,  with  its  doctrine 
of  relativity,  deprived  us  of  our  highest  moral  ideal,  with- 
out any  compensation  for  the  loss  beyond  its  academic  as- 
surance of  the  illusory  character  of  evil.  We  have  seen 
that  Pragmatism  and  Humanism  provided  no  metaphy- 
sical ground  for  the  ethical  claim  they  make  paramount, 
and  that  Pragmatism,  at  any  rate,  sets  up  a  false  and 
unethical  criterion  of  the  Good.  We  have  seen  that  the 
New  Eealism  threatens  us  with  the  eternal  reality  of  evil. 
Where  so  much  is  uncertain,  I  do  not  want  to  claim  a 
superior  certainty  for  this  tentative  reconstruction  that  I 
call  the  New  Idealism;  but  I  do  think  that,  more  surely 
than  any  other  theory,  it  opens  a  way  of  escape  from  the 
worst  entanglements  of  the  moral  problem. 

Meanwhile,  it  should  be  clearly  understood  that  my 
monist's  distinction  between  appearance  and  reality  is 
not  a  distinction  that  robs  one  single  appearance  of  its 
own.  peculiar  and  relative  reality.  On  the  contrary,  he 
would  not  be  a  good  monist  if  he  did  not  contend  that  the 
absolute  Reality  which  is  Spirit  is  its  o^vn  appearances. 
His  principle  is  such  that  it  confers  more  reality  on  ap- 


306  A  DEFENCE  OF  IDEALISM 

pearances  than  it  takes  away.  There  is  no  earthly  reason 
why  he  should  not  call  himself  a  Eealist,  except  that  the 
title  has  already  been  appropriated  by  his  opponents. 
He  is  only  obliged  to  insist  on  his  distinction  in  order  to 
resist  the  conclusion  they  offer  him  as  an  alternative. 

What  he  says  is:  This  multiplicity  and  change  that 
you  find  in  the  universe  I  also  find.  There  is  not  one 
sensible  or  intelligible  fact  in  the  whole  collection  to 
which  I  should  refuse  the  name  of  reality,  provided  it  be 
understood  that  not  one  of  these  is  the  Reality  I  am  look- 
ing for.  There  is  no  sort  of  necessity  to  go  out  and  look 
for  multiplicity  and  change  when  you  have  got  them  all 
around  you.  I  want  to  know  what,  if  anything,  lies  be- 
hind or  at  the  bottom  of  multiplicity  and  change. 

You  say  there  is  nothing  behind  or  at  the  bottom  of 
them,  and  that  change  and  multiplicity  are  sufficient  unto 
themselves.  And  I  repeat:  Are  they?  I  ask  you  how 
there  can  be  multiplicity  without  something  that  multi- 
plies itself,  or  change  without  something  that  persists 
throughout  change. 

It  is  not  that  you  cannot  conceive  multiplicity  without 
unity,  or  change  without  the  unchanging.  You  can  very 
well  conceive  them  by  a  process  of  logical  disintegration. 
It  is  that,  that  without  the  unchanging  One,  the  many 
and  the  changing  cannot  he.  Take  away  the  persistent 
reality  underlying  any  process  of  change,  or  any  chain  of 
changes;  and  both  process  and  chain  split  up  into  an  in- 
finite series,  of  which  you  cannot  say  of  any  one  moment 
that  it  constitutes  a  change.  Everything  is  at  the  in- 
finitely divisible  instant  when  it  is.  You  have,  in  fact, 
no  change  at  all,  but  the  monotony  of  an  endless  series 
of  absolute  entities.  The  one  underlying  reality,  then, 
is  the  only  means  by  which  a  process  of  change  can  be 
carried  on;  and  thig^,  whether  you  regard  a  process  of 
change,  incorrectly,  as  an  unending  chain  laid  out  along 


CONCLUSIONS  307 

one  straight  line,  or,  correctly,  as  an  intricate  system  of 
apparently  unending  chains. 

Whatever  charges  can  be  brought  against  this  form  of 
Monism,  it  cannot  be  taxed  with  "  thinness,"  or  barren- 
ness, or  immobility.  Nothing  could  well  be  thicker, 
more  multitudinous  and  less  monotonous  than  the  life  of 
a  Self  and  Spirit  that  is  one.  But  by  every  retrench- 
ment of  its  unity  —  that  is  to  say,  by  cutting  it  off  from 
any  section  of  the  universe  —  you  at  once  diminish  its 
multiplicity  and  deprive  your  section  of  the  possibility  of 
change.  By  removing  it  altogether,  the  pluralistic  realist 
knocks  the  bottom  out  of  his  pluriverse. 

It  is  even  more  obvious  that,  if  this  Self  or  Spirit  is 
to  be  conscious  of  the  change  and  multiplicity  of  its  own. 
manifestations,  it  must  be  one.  For  if  it  ceased  to  be 
one  and  the  same  self  at  each  moment  of  change,  no  mo- 
ment of  these  momentary  selves  could  be  more  than  one 
momentary  monotone.  Thus  Pluralistic  Realism  robs  its 
spectacle  of  any  continuous  spectator. 

And  so,  on  a  balance  of  considerations,  my  monist  re- 
fuses to  relinquish  his  principle. 

At  the  same  time  he  must  be  prepared  to  relinquish  it 
the  instant  he  receives  proof  positive  of  its  untenability. 
This  is  as  good  as  a  confession  that  he  holds  it  provision- 
ally, as  a  likely  hypothesis,  and  not  as  an  absolute  cer- 
tainty. 

He  is  painfully  aware  that  the  very  existence  of  his 
Absolute  Spirit  is  problematical ;  that,  outside  certain 
extremely  rare  forms  of  mystical  experience,  it  is  not  dis- 
coverable by  any  experimental  method  known  to  man. 
Neither  is  it  provable  by  any  strict  deduction  from  known 
laws  of  the  existent.  He  cannot  uphold  it  either  as  a 
conclusion  or  as  a  necessary  presupposition  of  all  think- 
ing. All  he  can  say  is  that  his  hypothesis  does  not  con- 
flict with  any  proved  certainty,  and  that  it  seems  to  him 


308  A  DEFENCE  OF  IDEALISM 

to  cover  more  facts  than  any  other  that  has  been  put 
forth  hitherto.  He  might  even  urge  that  there  are  some 
facts  the  outer  fringe  of  which  no  other  hypothesis  so 
much  as  touches. 

This  brings  us  to  the  end  of  our  reasoned  arguments. 

II 

Throughout  the  foregoing  metaphysical  discussion  one 
point  must  have  struck  the  unmetaphysical  reader,  as  it 
certainly  strikes  the  mere  writer:  that  a  good  half  of  the 
problems  under  consideration  arose  solely  from  the 
limitations  of  language.  We  can  argue  with  perfect  pro- 
priety as  to  whether  things  are  or  are  not  out  of  time  and 
out  of  space;  and  whether  one  body  is  or  is  not  outside 
another  body ;  and  whether  it  is  a  part  or  a  whole ;  and  if 
a  part,  whether  of  this  whole  or  that.  Of  things  occupy- 
ing space  we  can  argue  as  to  whether  they  run  parallel  to 
each  other  or  not,  or  whether  they  stand  at  the  circumfer- 
ence or  the  centre. 

But  when  it  comes  to  discussing  whether  things  are  in- 
side or  outside  of  consciousness ;  whether  consciousness  is 
a  part  or  a  whole;  whether,  if  it  runs,  it  runs  parallel 
with  physical  processes,  or  runs  altogether  in  some  other 
manner;  whether,  if  it  stands,  it  stands  at  the  circumfer- 
ence or  the  centre;  and  whether  consciousness  stands  or 
runs  at  all,  it  seems  almost  obvious  that  we  are  being 
made  the  victims  of  our  own  metaphors. 

Idealists  and  realists  seem  to  have  suffered  most  from 
the  confusion  that  results.  When  the  idealist  says  that 
the  world  arises  in  consciousness,  quite  palpably  he  lies. 
But  when  the  realist  says  that  consciousness  arises  in  the 
world  he  is  no  nearer  to  the  truth.  When  he  says  that  the 
world  exists  outside  consciousness,  he  can  only  mean  that 
it  exists  outside  his  body.  When  he  says  consciousness  is 
a  part  of  his  pluriverse  and  not  the  whole,  what  he  means, 
or  should  mean,  is  that  his  body  is  a  part  of  it.     Again, 


CONCLUSIONS  309 

when  the  idealist  says  that  consciousness  is  the  centre  of 
his  universe,  again,  palpably,  he  lies ;  not  because  he  has 
said  too  much,  but  because  he  has  said  too  little. 

For,  when  the  realist  swears  by  all  his  realities  that 
consciousness  stands  at  the  circumference,  he  is  perjured. 
When  he  reveals  his  pluriverse  as  an  infinite  nimiber  of 
entities,  mutually  repellent,  yet  co-existing,  even  inter- 
penetrating, much  as  the  infinite  planes  of  space  inter- 
penetrate each  other,  he  may  be  getting  at  the  truth  of 
the  matter  as  nearly  as  his  spectacular  methods  will  allow 
him.  But,  when  he  invites  you  to  consider  consciousness 
as  only  one  of  those  entities,  standing  to  all  the  others  in 
the  relation  of  a  spectator  to  a  spectacle,  then,  in  spite  of 
all  the  useful  distinctions  that  he  makes  between  things  in 
space  and  time,  and  things  out  of  space  and  time,  it  is 
clear  that  he  is  visualising  consciousness  as  somehow  oc- 
cupying both. 

If  we  once  grasp  the  utter  irrelevance  of  all  this  sym- 
bolic language  as  applying  to  consciousness  and  the  rela- 
tion of  subject  to  object,  half  the  difficulties  in  accepting 
some  conscious  principle  as  the  ultimate  reality  will  have 
disappeared;  and  the  pluralist's  claim  to  have  decentral- 
ized Philosophy  falls  through. 

After  this,  the  unphilosophic  reader  will  perhaps  see  no 
reason  why  the  idealist  lamb  should  not  lie  down  by  the 
pluralist  lion.  But  the  reason  is  clear  enough.  The 
lamb  does  not  do  the  smallest  damage  to  the  lion.  He 
does  not  interfere  with  any  one  of  his  adventures.  It  is 
the  lion  that  will  not  consent  to  live  and  let  live.  The 
prestige  of  Spirit  is  seriously  endangered  by  the  restric- 
tions Eealism  has  laid  on  it.  But  Reality  is  not  one 
whit  the  worse  because  Idealism  chooses  to  regard  Spirit 
as  its  source.  It  is  no  more  a  dance  of  bloodless  cate- 
gories than  it  was  before.  Existence  remains  as  full- 
blooded  and  gorgeously  coloured,  as  variegated  and  multi- 
tudinous, as  everlastingly  exciting,  mysterious  and  sur- 


310  A  DEFENCE  OF  IDEALISM 

prising  whether  you  call  it  the  manifestation  of  Spirit 
or  a  collection  of  ultimate  realities. 

The  only  question  that  concerns  us  is:  Which  theory 
is  the  more  likely  to  be  true  ? 

We  found  that  on  a  balance  of  the  reasoned  evidence 
we  had  some  grounds  for  supposing  Spiritualistic  Monism 
more  likely  to  be  true  than  Pluralistic  Eealism,  and  no 
valid  grounds  for  supposing  it  to  be  false. 

But,  if  the  reasoned  evidence  had  failed  us  so  far  as  to 
leave  the  balance  even,  we  should  not  then  have  despaired. 
For  we  found  a  mass  of  evidence  over  and  above ;  which, 
whether  we  regard  it  as  springing  from  a  higher  and 
purer,  or  from  a  lower  and  more  troubled  source  than 
reason,  is  not  altogether  to  be  gainsaid.  We  found  that 
one  of  our  oldest,  deepest,  and  most  enduring  possessions 
is  the  sense  of  the  Unseen.  We  saw  it  grow  from  a  primi- 
tive sense,  a  blind  and  savage  instinct,  to  a  transcendent 
spiritual  passion.  We  distinguished  between  the  higher 
and  the  lower  forms  of  Mysticism.  We  found  that,  when 
criticism  had  done  its  worst,  it  was  possible  to  separate 
the  purer  from  the  baser  elements  of  the  same  emotion; 
and  that  after  the  most  implacable  analysis  there  re- 
mained something  indestructible,  irreducible,  indefinable, 
bearing  its  own  peculiar  certainty. 

At  the  same  time  we  acknowledged  that  the  certainty 
of  spiritual  instinct  is  one  thing,  and  the  certainty  of 
reason  is  another ;  and  that  the  highest  degree  of  certainty 
can  only  be  reached  when  at  all  points  the  two  corroborate 
and  support  each  other.  Such  a  degree  of  certainty  we 
are  very  far  from  having  reached,  though  at  some  points 
we  may  have  found  this  corroboration  and  support. 


CONCLUSIOXS  311 

III 

We  have  now  to  find  the  bearing  of  our  conclusions, 
such  as  they  are,  on  the  question  of  Personal  Inunortality. 

Before  we  can  do  this,  however,  we  shall  have  to  con- 
sider certain  evidence  from  other  sources,  sources  that 
we  have  left,  so  far,  unexplored. 

First  of  all,  there  is  the  huge  mass  of  that  so-called 
"  evidence,"  which  the  Society  for  Psychical  Research 
makes  it  its  business  to  investigate  and  sift;  the  evidence 
drawn  from  the  communications  of  mediums,  from  auto- 
matic writing,  from  "  cross-correspondence  " ;  the  alleged 
apparitions  of  the  departed,  "  materializations  "  and  ve- 
ridical dreams. 

I  do  not  propose  to  investigate  and  sift  this  evidence 
all  over  again.  People  who  are  interested  in  "  Spiritual- 
ism," critically  or  otherwise,  should  study  the  literature 
of  the  subject  for  themselves.  When  they  have  read  and 
digested  the  Journals  and  Proceedings  of  the  Society  up 
to  date,  and  the  records  of  foreign  organizations  devoted 
to  the  same  adventure,  together  with  Mr.  F.  W.  Myers 
on  Human  Personality  and  Sir  Oliver  Lodge's  Raymond, 
they  had  better  read  Mr.  Frank  Podmore's  Studies  in 
Psychical  Research  also.     I  shall,  therefore,  be  very  brief. 

Briefly,  then,  we  shall  do  well  to  distinguish  between 
what  are,  broadly  speaking,  two  kinds  of  evidence:  In- 
direct communications,  made  through  mediums,  with 
their  accompanying  apparitions  or  materializations,  and: 
Direct  communications,  made  spontaneously  and  without 
any  apparent  machinery  of  suggestion,  such  as  "  ve- 
ridical "  dreams  and  apparitions  seen  without  the  help  of 
mediums.  Under  both  these  heads  there  is  an  enormous 
body  of  perfectly  well-authenticated  testimony  borne  by 
irreproachable  persons.  Some  of  it,  but  only  a  very  little, 
has  even  been  brought  forward  by  sceptical  and  indiffer- 
ent persons,  persons  without  any  interest  in  the  result 
one  way  or  other. 


312  A  DEFENCE  OF  IDEALISM 

Briefly,  again,  I  think  there  cannot  be  a  doubt  in  the 
mind  of  any  unprejudiced  person  that,  both  through  the 
agency  of  mediums  and  otherwise,  things  happen;  things 
that  are  not  explainable  by  any  trickery;  things  interest- 
ing enough,  and  even  uncanny  enough  to  charm  the  most 
fastidious  lover  of  the  occult.  (Unfortunately,  lovers  of 
the  occult  are  very  seldom  hampered  in  their  researches 
by  over  fastidiousness.) 

The  question  is :     What  happens  ? 

Take  the  regular  Spiritualistic  phenomena  first.  Mrs. 
Piper,  say,  seems  to  be  giving  messages  from  the  spirits 
of  Mr.  Myers  or  Dr.  Verrall.  Their  authenticity  seems 
to  be  sufficiently  attested  by  allusions  to  intricate  and 
subtle  points  of  scholarship  said  to  be  known  only  to  Dr. 
Verrall  and  Mr.  Myers.  The  automatic  writer  writes 
words  that  she  herself  would  never  have  dreamed  of,  as  if 
under  an  irresistible  and  supernatural  compulsion. 
What  she  has  written  tallies  with  something  said  to  be 
known  only  to  the  departed.  Hands  are  certainly  seen 
to  be  waving  where  human  hands  are  not.  Bunches  of 
flowers,  and  even  still  more  solid  objects  materialize  ap- 
parently from  nowhere  out  of  nothing. 

It  cannot  all  be  fraud,  all  the  time,  though  some  of  it 
may  be  sometimes.  Exposure  in  ninety-nine  cases  af- 
fords no  absolutely  valid  grounds  for  denying  that  the 
hundredth  case  may  be  genuine. 

What,  then,  is  going  on  ? 

So  far  as  psychical  research  has  been  carried  yet,  I 
cannot  see  that,  even  under  the  most  carefully  prepared 
test  conditions,  there  is  an  atom  of  evidence  to  show  that 
what  is  going  on  is  an  actual  communication,  or  effort  at 
communication,  of  the  discarnate  with  the  incarnate. 

It  may  be  so.  But  until  we  have  eliminated  every  pos- 
sible source  of  suggestion  from  the  living  we  have  no 
right  to  assume  an  even  remote  suggestion  from  "  the 
other  side."     And  to  ensure  this  test  condition  we  should 


CONCLUSIONS  313 

have  to  exterminate  the  living.  The  test  will  not  be  water- 
tight until  the  communicant  is  alone  with  the  communica- 
tor ;  and  then  there  will  only  be  his  word  for  it. 

On  this  side,  whatever  Spiritualism  may  be,  telepathy 
is  a  fact ;  and  whatever  the  precise  limits  and  possibilities 
of  telepathy  may  be,  we  have  not  yet  discovered  them. 

Can  we  be  sure  that  the  things  said  to  be  known  only  to 
the  discarnate  are  not  among  the  subconscious  memories 
of  the  communicant  or  of  some  person  present  at  the 
seance  ?  Or  that  they  are  not  known  by  any  living  mind 
on  earth  ?  Nothing  in  the  annals  of  Psychical  Eesearch 
is  more  astonishing  than  the  series  of  cross-correspond- 
ences in  the  case  of  Mrs.  Holland  and  Mrs.  Verrall.  Mrs. 
Holland  in  India  received  by  automatic  writing  one  half 
of  a  supposed  communication ;  the  other  half  was  received 
by  Mrs.  Verall  in  England,  neither  making  sense  by  itself. 
The  two  writers  were  unacquainted,  and  each  was  unaware 
of  what  the  other  was  doing.  The  perfect  dove-tailing  of 
the  fragments  could  not  be  accounted  for  on  any  theory  of 
coincidences.  The  two  writings  clearly  dealt  with  the 
same  context;  for  quotations  from  certain  known  poems, 
broken  off  or  garbled  in  one  fragment,  were  completed  or 
emended  by  the  other. 

Here  the  test  conditions  were  all  that  could  be  desired. 
It  was  a  manifest  case  of  tapping  a  "  wireless."  Yet  who 
could  say  that  the  probability  of  wireless  from  the  living 
was  ruled  out?  The  state  of  desire  and  expectancy,  in 
which  all  these  efforts  to  communicate  are  made,  renders 
the  minds  of  the  investigators  peculiarly  open  to  sugges- 
tion. And  —  an  extremely  important  point  —  the  more 
transparently  honest  the  mind,  the  more  passive  it  will  be, 
therefore  the  more  open. 

And  if  the  messages  are  suspect,  what  shall  we  say  of 
the  manifestations  ?  In  these  cases  how  can  we  possibly 
rule  out  suggestion  ?  Certain  experiments  have  been  made 
by  Janet  and  his  son  on  their  patients  at  the  Salpetriere, 


314  A  DEFENCE  OF  IDEALISM 

which  show  that  both  positive  and  negative  hallucinations 
can  be  produced  by  suggestion.  The  patient,  that  is  to 
say,  can  be  made,  not  only  to  see  things  that  are  not  there 
and  to  behave  as  if  they  were  there,  but  not  to  see  things 
that  are  there  and  to  behave  as  if  they  were  not  there ;  both 
hallucinations  remaining  intact  until  the  experimenter 
releases  the  enchanted  one  from  her  enchantment.  And 
not  only  eminent  alienists,  but  obscure  amateurs  have  done 
as  much.  Why  then  should  not  the  magic  of  the  medium 
be  equally  effective  ?  Why  should  not  an  expert  suggestor 
create  both  positive  and  negative  hallucinations  at  will? 
Is  it  a  question  of  pocketing  the  "  sendings  "  and  taking 
them  home  with  you,  why  should  he  not  introduce  into 
the  blankly  innocent  scene  all  the  paraphernalia  of  mate- 
rialization he  requires,  by  simply  inhibiting  the  perception 
of  them,  until  the  moment  comes  for  handing  round  the 
evidential  trophies  ?  This  would  account  for  the  indu- 
bitably solid  objects,  the  plaster-casts  of  "  spirit-hands," 
the  flowers,  the  little  girls,  and  the  teaspoons  which  have 
figured  at  certain  twentieth-century  seances. 

However  this  may  be,  if  psychical  researchers  are  not 
increasing  their  knowledge  of  "  the  other  side,"  they  are 
preparing  excellent  material  for  psychologists  on  this  side. 

The  other  sort  of  evidence,  the  direct  and  spontaneous 
sort,  is,  I  think,  in  rather  better  case.  It  would  be  stupid 
to  deny  that  there  have  been  well-authenticated  appari- 
tions, and  so-called  veridical  dreams,  which  appeal  to  our 
belief  because  of  their  directness  and  spontaneity;  by  the 
fact  that  they  have  come  to  people  who  were  not  looking 
for  them,  in  many  cases  to  people  who  would  have  gone  out 
of  their  way  to  avoid  them  if  they  had  known  that  they 
were  coming.  The  sudden  unexpectedness  of  these  en- 
counters through  the  veridical  dream  and  the  valedictory 
apparition  is  in  their  favour. 

But,  here  again,  the  possibility  of  telepathy  between 


CONCLUSIONS  315 

the  living  is  by  no  means  ruled  out.  So  far,  if  I  am  not 
mistaken,  most  of  the  verified  or  verifiable  instances  of 
apparitions  have  occurred,  not  after  death  but  before  it, 
or  at  the  actual  moment  of  passing,  and  cannot  be  taken 
as  evidence  of  survival.  The  vision  of  the  dead  body  may 
be  explained  by  suggestion  from  the  living  attendants  of 
the  dead.  So  may  the  instance  of  the  dream  that  comes 
true.     And  there  is  always  coincidence. 

There  remain  certain  (also  well-authenticated)  cases  of 
the  continuous  apparition,  the  ghost  that  haunts.  It  seems 
hardly  likely  that  they  are  all  the  products  of  a  disordered 
brain  or  a  habit  of  mendacity.  But  I  have  never  come 
across  any  more  satisfactory  explanation  of  them.  We 
may  invent  hypotheses  to  account  for  them:  for  instance, 
that  the  impact  of  all  visible  and  audible  events  is  con- 
tinued in  an  infinite  series  of  finer  and  finer  vibrations, 
the  swing,  as  it  were,  of  infinitely  divisible  etheric  par- 
ticles ;  so  that,  long  after  the  date  of  the  original  event,  its 
ghostly  simulacra  are  seen  or  heard  by  senses  pitched  to 
their  rates  of  vibration.  But  even  if  some  unforeseen  dis- 
covery in  physics  were  to  give  encouragement  to  this 
theory,  it  would  involve  a  corresponding  theory  of  an  in- 
finite series  of  finer  and  finer  senses,  pitched  to  the  finer 
and  finer  vibrations ;  and  even  if  this  received  encourage- 
ment from  psychology,  we  should  still  be  no  nearer  know- 
ing why  some  of  these  events  should  be  perceived  and  not 
others. 

And  we  should  be  as  far  as  ever  from  any  evidence  of 
survival. 

There  is  yet  another  very  ancient  and  widespread  be- 
lief, on  which  many  people  still  found  their  hope  of  per- 
sonal immortality:  the  belief  in  Reincarnation. 

If  the  belief  itself  were  well  founded  it  would  be  as  good 
a  foundation  as  we  could  wish  to  have.     If  we  have  lived 


316  A  DEFENCE  OF  IDEALISM 

many  times  before,  there  is,  to  say  the  least  of  it,  an  ante- 
cedent probability  that  we  shall  live  again.  There  would 
even  be  no  reason  why  we  should  ever  stop  living. 

I^Tow  there  are  three  theories  of  Reincarnation,  and  two 
of  them  are  mutually  exclusive.  One  is  primitive  and  sav- 
age ;  one  ancient  and  pseudo-metaphysical ;  one  modern, 
and,  if  not  scientific,  fairly  well  founded  on  scientific 
grounds. 

According  to  the  primitive  and  savage  belief,  we  are  all 
reincarnations  of  the  dead.  Ghosts  are  germs  and  germs 
are  ghosts.  As  the  flower  and  the  corn  return  to  earth,  we 
return.  The  ghosts  of  the  newly  dead  hang  about,  in 
woods  and  at  cross-roads,  for  choice,  waiting  for  women 
to  pass  by  that  they  may  enter  their  bodies  and  be  born 
again.  The  places  where  they  hang  about  are  haunted 
places. 

According  to  the  second  and  most  fascinating  form  of 
the  belief  (which  involves  the  doctrine  of  Karma),  we  are 
born  again  and  again  as  full-blown  human  individuals, 
breaking  through  the  knitted  chain  of  the  generations  at 
points  that  may  be  divided  by  many  ages. 

According  to  the  third,  we  have  been  incarnate  again 
and  again  in  the  bodies  of  our  parents  and  our  ancestors, 
in  such  sort  that  the  chain  of  generation  is  never  broken. 
This,  as  we  have  seen,  is  the  doctrine  of  Pan-Psychism. 

Observe  that  both  the  primitive  and  the  modern  theory 
are  the  most  satisfactory  and  courageous  in  tackling  the 
crux  of  reincarnation  —  its  modus  operandi.  The  theory 
of  Karma  leaves  this  essential  part  of  the  problem  alto- 
gether too  vague.  And  I  am  bound  to  confess  that  it  is  the 
savage  who  scores  in  simplicity  and  precision. 

But  it  is  the  theory  involving  Karma  that  people  mean 
when  they  talk  about  reincarnation.  It  exerts  an  irre- 
sistible fascination  for  certain  temperaments  that  would  be 
repelled  by  the  Pan-Psychism  of  Samuel  Butler  or  of 
anybody  else. 


CONCLUSIONS  31Y 

The  belief  has  been  for  ages  the  actual,  living  belief  of 
millions  in  India,  China  and  Japan.  In  spite  of  its  in- 
herent difficulties  it  is  still  more  or  less  sincerely  held  by 
many  perfectly  sane  people  in  Europe  and  America  at  the 
present  day.  You  used  to  meet  them  at  the  Eitz  or  Kum- 
pelmeyer's  (it  was  in  the  days  before  the  War),  when  they 
would  tell  you  as  a  matter  of  course  that  they  remembered 
being  a  dancer  at  the  court  of  Amen  Hotep  III.,  or  the 
queen-consort  of  Assurbanipal,  or  a  concubine  of  Senna- 
cherib, or  a  priestess  in  the  temple  of  Krishna,  or  a  great 
hetaira  of  the  age  of  Pericles.  (The  odd  thing  is  that  the 
Eeincarnated  have  always  been  something  royal  or  hieratic 
or  improper;  something  sufficiently  afar  from  the  sphere 
of  their  sorrow.  Eastern  or  Egj'ptian  preferred ;  something, 
whatever  it  may  be,  that  they  are  not  now. )  And  they  ex- 
pect you  to  believe  them. 

They  are  not  content  to  have  taken  part  in  the  thousand 
or  the  million  incarnations  of  their  own  ancestors,  in  a 
thousand  or  a  million  experiences;  they  are  not  content 
with  their  thousandth  or  their  millionth  share  in  the  ad- 
ventures of  the  dancer  at  the  court  of  Amen  Hotep  III. ; 
they  want  all  the  adventure  to  themselves.  It  is  the  full- 
blo^vn  dancing  individual  they  claim  to  have  been.  And 
the  plain  facts  of  biology  are  all  against  it.  You  cannot 
thus  break  through  the  unbroken  chain  of  the  generations. 
The  difficulty  for  the  devotees  of  this  form  of  reincarna- 
tion is,  not  that  there  is  no  proof  that  they  have  never  lived 
before,  but  that  there  is  too  much  proof  that  they  have 
never  stopped  living.  They  have  never  escaped  from  the 
chain  until  the  day  when  they  were  born  as  the  individual 
they  are  now. 

Pan-Psychism  is  a  theory,  not  of  Eeincamation,  but  of 
continuous  Incarnation.  And  unless  there  are  gTounds  — 
and  I  have  tried  to  show  that  there  are  grounds  —  for  sup- 
posing that  the  Self  is  something  over  and  above  its  own 
experience,  its  own  memories,  and  its  own  organism,  the 


318  A  DEFENCE  OF  IDEALISM 

mere  fact  that  we  have  never  stopped  living  so  far  is  no 
guarantee  that  we  shall  go  on  living  after  the  final  dissolu- 
tion of  that  organism.  But  if  we  have  appropriated  it 
rather  than  inherited  it,  our  previous  existence  becomes,  I 
think,  a  verj  considerable  guarantee. 

Now  it  may  be  objected  that  this  self  over  and  above  is  a 
pure  blank.  Yet  it  seems  to  be  all  that  is  left  to  us.  And 
if  the  pure  self  is  as  pure  as  that,  what  good  is  it  to  any- 
body ?  If  there  is  nothing  in  it,  how  is  it  going  to  carry 
on  and  to  carry  us  on  ? 

I  own  that  it  doesn't  look  as  if  the  self-over-and-above 
could  give  much  support  to  the  hope  of  immortality,  or  that 
in  its  nakedness  it  is  likely  to  appeal  to  the  plain  man. 
The  pure  self  is  not  looked  upon  with  favour  even  by 
idealists.  Kant,  who  as  good  as  discovered  it,  fought  shy 
of  it.  Realists  are  fond  of  reminding  you  that  you  cannot 
prove  existence,  you  can  only  perceive  it.  Is  there, 
then,  any  reasonable  sense  in  which  it  can  be  said  to  exist  ? 
If  it  isn't  perceived,  and  if  it  isn't  memory,  if  it  isn't  con- 
sciousness, what  is  it  ?  My  friend,  Dr.  McTaggart,  says  it 
is  nothing.  And  its  blankness  must  seem  to  many  peo- 
ple every  bit  as  terrifying  as  the  blankness  of  death. 

Yet  it  is  in  this  pure  self  that  I  am  asking  you  to  put 
your  trust. 

For  all  these  objections  rest  on  the  monstrous  assumption 
that  what  you  cannot  perceive  does  not  exist  and  is  not  real. 
And  this  is  to  claim  greater  authority  for  finite  and  human 
perception  than  it  can  possibly  possess.  Eemember,  it  is 
only  the  purity  of  the  self  that  is  so  universally  objected  to. 
And  the  self  is  not  more  pure,  more  utterly  beyond  touch 
and  sight  than  space  and  time  are.  It  is  not  more  empty 
to  perception  than  matter  is  in  the  last  analysis.  And  we 
Baw  what  dangers  and  dilemmas  we  avoided  by  putting  self- 
hood where  the  plain  man  (unaware  of  its  purity)  puts  it 
—  first. 

Personally,  I  am  not  dismayed  by  this  blankness  of  the 


CONCLUSIONS  319 

self  behind  me.  Eatber,  because  of  it,  I  can  face  the  blank- 
ness  before  me  without  flinching.  I  can  conceive  all  my 
memory,  that  is  to  say,  all  the  experience  I  had  acquired  in 
this  life,  everything  that  makes  me  recogTiizable  and  dear 
to  myself  and  to  other  people ;  I  cannot  only  conceive,  but 
think  of  it  as  going  from  me  with  my  death  and  of  myself 
as  yet  continuing. 

I  would  rather  keep  that  experience  intact  —  I  have  al- 
ready lost  much  by  simple,  casual  forgetting,  and  if  I  have 
lived  long  enough  I  may  have  lost  all  that  is  worth  keeping 
of  it  —  I  had  rather  keep  that  memory  and  carry  it  over 
with  me,  for  the  living  interest  of  the  thing;  but  if  I  am 
driven  to  conclude  that  I  must  lose  it,  I  do  not  therefore 
think  of  myself  as  lost.  It  may  be  that,  here  again,  a  more 
perfect  forgetting  is,  as  it  was  before,  the  coTidition  of  a 
more  perfect  consciousness.  I  know  that  I  could,  and 
probably  shall,  embrace  a  wholly  new  experience  with  the 
same  eager  interest  with  which  I  have  embraced  the  old. 
For,  through  forgetfulness  of  my  past  lives,  my  present 
life  began  to  all  intents  and  purposes  as  a  blank,  an  expe- 
rience that  I  knew  nothing  of,  and  that  knew  nothing  of 
me. 

And  supposing  that  no  vehicle  of  individuality,  such  as 
my  body  was,  awaits  me  at  the  instant  of  death.  Suppos- 
ing that  no  refined  simulacrum  of  my  body  exists,  either  as 
an  inner  or  outer  vehicle,  or  as  an  interpenetrating  and 
energizing  substance,  inscrutably  present  with  my  physical 
body  and  enduring  after  my  death.  (Many  quite  sane  peo- 
ple believe  in  such  a  vehicle,  on  evidence  I  know  nothing 
about  except  that  it  satisfies  them.)  Supposing  that  no 
such  vehicle  is  at  my  disposal,  and  that  I  have  to  wait 
untold  ages  before  I  can  find  one,  or  the  germ  of  one,  in 
order  to  appear  and  to  be  conscious  again;  those  untold 
ages  will  not  trouble  me.  They  will  no  doubt  exist  as  the 
time-schemes  of  other  consciousnesses,  other  thoughts,  and 
other  emotions.     Other  selves,  living  at  another  pace  and 


320  A  DEFENCE  OF  IDEALISM 

with  another  intensity,  will  beat  out  the  measure  and  will 
keep  the  record  of  those  times,  just  as  some  superhuman 
and  superorganic  consciousness  must  have  kept  the  record 
and  beaten  out  the  measure  of  prehuman  and  preorganic 
times.  They  do  not  concern  me.  In  the  first  instant  that 
I  am  conscious  again  my  world  arises,  as  if  there  had  been 
no  age-long  break,  no  break  at  all ;  not  so  much  as  an  infin- 
itesimally  small  interval,  and  I  shall  conceive  my  world 
as  without  beginning  and  without  end. 

The  actual  break  is  the  worst  that  can  happen  to  me, 
and,  whether  it  be  long  or  short,  I  shall  know  nothing  of  it. 

It  may  be  still  objected  that  in  cutting  the  self  adrift 
from  memory  I  am  burning  the  only  ship  that  will  bring 
me  safe  to  shore.  But  this  implies  that  the  underwriters 
have  ensured  that  ship,  and  will  continue  to  ensure  her, 
which  is  very  far  from  being  the  case.  I  am  leaving  an 
unseaworthy  vessel  whose  foundering,  if  she  does  founder, 
will  sink  me  with  her  to  the  bottom.  I  might  possibly  be 
afraid  to  sink  with  the  ship ;  to  drown,  battened  down  with 
the  rats  in  the  hold,  but  for  the  probability  that  neither  I 
nor  the  rats  would  know  anything  about  it.  I  am  not  in 
the  least  afraid  to  throw  myself  into  the  open  sea. 

But  this  theory  of  Pan-Psychism  provides  another  and  a 
stronger  argument  for  human  immortality.  It  supposes 
that  all  Life  and  the  evolution  of  every  living  organism 
depends  on  the  desire  and  the  design  of  an  indestructible 
psyche ;  and  that,  under  favourable  conditions,  when  the 
desire  and  the  design  have  been  strong  enough  and  suit- 
able, they  have  been  fulfilled.  And  as  far  as  the  living 
organism  goes,  design  has  followed,  slavishly,  desire.  So 
that,  if  the  human  psyche  has  a  strong  desire  for  immor- 
tality, and  if  its  design  is  in  accordance  with  that  desire, 
immortality,  in  spite  of  the  fact  that  it  is  a  large  order, 
should  follow. 

There  are  few  arguments  for  Personal  Immortality  that 


CONCLUSIONS  321 

have  not  some  danger.  And  this  argument  from  human 
instinct  and  desire  is  imperilled  by  the  objection  that  this 
particular  instinct  and  desire  is  by  no  means  universal,  and 
that  no  psychic  design,  so  far  as  we  know,  in  any  way  de- 
pends on  it.  It  may  be  distinctly  lacking  in  highly  civi- 
lized societies.  The  less  instinctive  and  the  more  intel- 
lectual man  becomes,  the  more  he  is  apt  to  repudiate  both 
the  belief  in  immortality  and  the  desire  and  the  hope  of  it. 

The  belief  apparently  rests  on  instinct.  But  the  desire 
and  the  hope  do  not  seem  to  be  as  instinctive,  or  at  any  rate 
as  primitive  as  the  belief.  Where  the  belief  is  practically 
universal,  as  among  savages,  the  life  after  death  and  all 
that  belongs  to  it  are  dreaded  rather  than  desired.  The 
eavage  may  desire  the  dead  man's  strength,  his  mana;  but 
the  discarnate  ghost  itself  is  a  thing  of  terror. 

And  the  belief  is  more  a  belief  in  survival  than  in  im- 
mortality. For  the  primitive  mind  is  a  child's  mind.  It 
cannot  grasp  the  idea  of  any  long  period  of  definite  time, 
much  less  the  idea  of  immortality. 

The  hope  and  the  desire  are  virile  instincts.  With  one 
apparent  exception,  they  seem  to  have  dominated  the  youth 
of  the  race  and  its  maturity ;  to  belong  to  those  stages  of  its 
development  that  lie  between  primitive  savagery  and  ex- 
treme civilization  ;  and  to  be  intimately  associated  with  the 
rise  and  decline  of  personal  religion. 

The  one  exception,  which  is  the  stock  argument  against 
the  belief  in  personal  immortality,  is  of  course  Buddhism. 
Buddhism,  it  is  said,  the  ancient  and  permanent  religion 
of  millions  of  the  human,  race,  is  a  religion  founded  on  the 
negation  of  immortality.  And  wherever  it  exists  it  is  the 
religion,  not  of  a  handful  of  metaphysicians  but  of  the 
priesthood  and  the  common  people. 

And  as,  with  the  progress  of  science  and  speculative 
thought,  the  belief  tends  to  disappear,  so  with  the  progress 
of  civilization  the  desire  itself  weakens.  It  is  not  only  that 
the  intellectuals  doubt  or  disbelieve  for  intellectual  reasons, 


322  A  DEFENCE  OF  IDEALISM 

and  spread  their  doubt  or  disbelief  through  all  the  circles 
that  they  influence.  Other  and  simpler  people  are  indif- 
ferent; and  the  root  of  their  indifference  is  moral  and 
physical  rather  than  intellectual.  The  belief  in  immor- 
tality is  no  longer  popular ;  at  any  rate,  it  has  no  longer  the 
vogue  it  once  had. 

And  we  have  reason  to  be  cautious  in  approaching  it, 
when  we  find  the  distinguished  historian  of  the  origin  of 
this  belief  regarding  it  with  a  haK-amused  and  half  dis- 
dainful scepticism. 

It  must  be  confessed  that  the  result  of  Sir  James 
Frazer's  researches  are  not  such  as  to  make  sensitive  people 
in  love  with  the  belief  in  human  immortality.  They  are 
not  such  as  to  make  intelligent  people  conclude  that  there 
is  anything  in  humanity  that  deserves  to  endure  even  for 
a  day.  It  is  quite  possible  to  bring  forward  an  array  of 
facts  to  show  that  the  whole  history  of  this  pitiful  race  is 
one  long  record  of  cowardice  and  uncleanness,  cruelty  and 
imbecility. 

Listen  to  these  two  voices  that  debate  the  destiny  of 
man: 

"  Surely,  they  say,  such  a  glorious  creature  was  not  born  for 
mortality,  to  be  snuffed  out  like  a  candle,  to  fade  like  a  flower, 
to  pass  away  like  a  breath.  Is  all  that  penetrating  intellect, 
that  creative  fancy,  that  vaulting  ambition,  those  noble  pas- 
sions, those  far-reaching  hopes,  to  come  to  nothing,  to  shrink  up 
into  a  pinch  of  dust?     It  is  not  so;  it  cannot  be.  .  .  ." 

"  Shall  a  creature  so  frail  and  puny  claim  to  live  for  ever,  to 
outlast  not  only  the  present  starry  system,  but  every  other  that 
when  earth  and  stars  have  crumbled  into  dust,  shall  be  built 
upon  their  ruins  in  the  long,  long  hereafter?  It  is  not  so,  it 
cannot  be.  .  .  ." 

"  Those  who  take  this  view  of  the  transitoriness  of  man  com- 
pared with  the  vastness  and  permanence  of  the  universe  find  lit- 
tle in  the  beliefs  of  savages  to  alter  their  opinion.  They  see  in 
the  savage  conception  of  the  soul  and  its  destiny  nothing  but  a 
product  of  childish  ignorance,  the  hallucinations  of  hysteria, 
the  ravings  of  insanity,  or  the  concoctions  of  deliberate  fraud 
and  imposture."  ^® 


CONCLUSIONS  323 

You  see  the  historian  trying  to  hold  the  balance  scrupu- 
lously even;  but  there  is  little  doubt  as  to  which  of  those 
two  voices  is  the  more  insistent.  He  also  reminds  us  that 
Buddhism  is  a  conspicuous  and  extensive  and  damaging 
fact. 

And  when  we  remember  that  our  positive  metaphysical 
arguments  rest  on  the  slender  foothold  of  debatable  hy- 
pothesis, and  that  we  were  obliged  to  fall  back  on  the  bio- 
logical and  psychological  arguments  from  desire  and  de- 
sign, and  that  these  arguments  apparently  cannot  stand  the 
light  of  an  impartial  historical  survey;  when  we  are  re- 
minded, further,  that  William  James  prefaced  his  immor- 
tal essay  on  Immortality  with  the  emphatic  statement  that 
he  personally  had  no  desire  for  it  whatever,  it  looks  as  if 
the  prospects  for  human  immortality  were  black ;  as  if  we 
should  have,  after  all,  to  content  ourselves  with  the  negative 
encouragement  we  are  at  least  sure  of  —  the  impossibility 
of  proving  that  it  cannot  be. 

Yet  we  were  in  worse  case  a  little  while  back,  when  we 
tried  to  discover  whether  Mysticism  had  anything  in  it 
that  escaped  the  violence  of  its  detractors.  We  found  then 
that,  for  all  its  dubious  or  disgraceful  history,  and  for  all 
its  elements  of  grossness  and  absurdity,  there  was  some- 
thing intangible  and  invulnerable  that  escaped.  We  found 
that  you  might  as  well  judge  poetry  by  the  practice  of  the 
worst  poetasters  as  judge  Mysticism  by  the  practice  of  its 
worst  exponents  or  by  the  lapses  of  its  best. 

And  so  I  think  that,  if  we  look  closer,  we  shall  find  for 
one  thing  that,  in  spite  of  its  savage  history,  there  is 
nothing  either  absurd  or  ignoble  in  the  belief  in  immor- 
tality itself. 

To  begin  with,  the  belief  has  been  evolved.  It  has  not 
remained  in  its  primitive  savagery.  And  even  in  its  prim- 
itiveness  it  was  not,  after  all,  such  a  very  imbecile  belief. 
It  arose,  in  the  first  place,  from  a  most  intelligent  and 
reasonable  desire  for  fertility.     The  ghost,  imagined  as 


324  A  DEFENCE  OF  IDEALISM 

surviving,  was,  originally,  the  source  of  ynana,  the  mys- 
terious power  of  life.^^  The  savage  tribesman  had  no 
personal  aspirations.  He  did  not  think  of  himself  as 
a  person.  Therefore  he  took  short  views,  and  it  did  not 
occur  to  him  that  he  might  eventually  become  a  spirit  and 
the  source  of  power.  He  only  aspired  to  get  power,  to  get 
life,  from  season  to  season,  to  be  fruitful  and  to  bring 
fruitfulness  to  his  trees  and  gTain  and  to  his  flocks  and 
herds.  He  buried  the  seed,  and  he  saw  that  it  came  up 
again  as  a  green  blade.  He  buried  his  father,  and  he 
looked  for  him  to  come  up  again  in  children  born  to  the  tribe. 

There  must  have  been  an  immense  step  between  this 
primitive  idea  of  subjective  immortality  and  the  idea  of 
the  ghost's  life  as  independent  and  continuous.  First 
of  all,  the  ghost  is  a  buried,  underground  thing ;  it  is  later 
that  he  moves  about  on  the  face  of  the  earth  and  becomes 
the  dreadful  supernatural  thing,  the  haunter,  the  watcher 
by  the  cross-roads  and  the  sacred  tree  ^^ ;  much  later,  then, 
he  becomes  the  departed  who  has  journeyed  to  the  Islands 
of  the  Blessed  and  will  not  return. 

Apparently  it  is  not  until  this  stage  is  reached  that  it 
occurs  to  primitive  man  that  he  may  very  well  live  again 
like  his  fathers,  and  that  where  they  have  gone  he  may 
go.  It  is  later  still  that  he  conceives  the  idea  of  the  spirit- 
ual dying  and  new  birth ;  and  with  it  the  passion  for  God 
and  the  desire  of  immortality  for  its  own  sake. 

Yet  not  altogether  for  its  own  sake.  He  wants  to  be 
wherever  his  gods  are.  When  he  has  once  for  all  placed 
his  god  in  heaven  rather  than  under  the  earth,  it  is  to 
heaven  that  he  wants  to  go. 

The  desire  of  immortality  is. one  thing,  then,  and  the 
primitive  belief  in  a  survival  on  earth  is  another.  And 
the  desire  of  immortality  comes  last,  and  comes  with  man's 
consciousness  of  himself  as  an  immaterial  being.  Imma- 
terial, therefore  immortal.  He  desires  to  be  what  he  is  not 
yet ;  but  he  does  not  desire  it  until  he  is  ready  for  it,  until 


CONCLUSIONS  325 

he  knows  it  to  be  possible.  And  in  all  this  his  religion  is 
not  the  driving  and  compelling  power ;  it  follows  the  lead 
of  the  developing  and  dominant  desire.  It  once  centred 
round  his  natural  and  tribal  life,  then  around  his  social 
life.  It  now  centres  round  his  individual  and  spiritual 
life ;  that  is  all.  The  individual  is  adapting  himself  to  the 
wider  reality  that  his  prophetic  need  discerns. 

Presently  he  seeks  metaphysical  grounds  for  his  belief 
and  ethical  justification  for  his  desire. 

Last  of  all,  in  the  decadence  of  over-civilized  races, 
when  they  are  about  to  be  conquered  by  the  younger  and 
the  stronger  race,  the  belief  and  the  hope  and  the  desire  of 
immortality  weaken  and  die. 

This  is  where  the  passionate  concentration  on  origins 
would  seem  to  be  misleading.  It  diverts  attention  from 
the  fact  that  there  are  such  things  as  ends.  The  study  of 
what  has  been  is  important ;  it  is  interesting ;  but  it  is  in- 
teresting and  it  is  important  chiefly  as  throwing  light  on 
what  is  and  what  will  be,  which  are  even  more  important 
and  more  interesting  than  it. 

So  that  when  we  see  the  thing  through,  its  history  does 
not  show  up  this  belief  as  ignoble,  infantile,  and  absurd. 
It  shows  the  desire  for  immortality  strengthening  with 
man's  youth  and  his  maturity,  and  declining  and  decaying 
only  with  his  weakness  and  decay. 

It  has  been  said  that  wherever  the  belief  has  existed  it 
has  proved  harmful,  therefore  contrary  to  the  design  of  the 
psyche  and  its  organism,  therefore  destined  to  disappear. 

This  objection  also  ignores  what  has  happened  and  is 
happening.  It  is  true  that  there  has  always  been  a  dis- 
astrous period  of  transition,  when  man  has  not  yet  adjusted 
the  claims  of  his  natural  and  spiritual  life;  when  he  has 
been  so  unaware  of  the  metaphysical  grounds  of  his  immor- 
tality that  he  has  tried  to  bargain  with  his  God  for  it,  to 
buy  his  soul's  life  with  the  sacrifice  of  his  body.  The 
cruelties  and  violences  of  asceticism  proved  that  he  was  by 


326  A  DEFENCE  OF  IDEALISM 

no  means  sure  that  his  passion  for  God  and  immortality 
was  requited.  This  period  may  stand  for  the  crisis  of 
spiritual  adolescence  with  its  uncertainty  and  disturbance 
and  self-torture.  The  passion  for  God  and  immortality 
are  no  more  discredited  by  it  than  human  passion  is  by 
the  physical  crisis  of  its  coming. 

It  is  also  true  that  the  nineteenth  century  was  a  vigorous 
and  virile  century ;  yet  disbelief  in  immortality  was  then 
almost  de  rigueur  among  people  with  any  pretensions  to 
scientific  training.  But  this  was  partly  because  the  first 
triumphs  of  physical  science  had  turned  the  heads  of  its 
professors.  It  may  be  observed  that  Professor  Huxley  did 
not  discover  his  "  mechanical  equivalent  of  consciousness  " ; 
he  lived,  in  fact,  to  recant  so  far  as  to  confess  that  Nature 
could  not  possibly  have  evolved  the  laws  of  Ethics  which 
exist  in  violent  opposition  to  Nature's  laws.  And  the 
twentieth  century  is  not  unanimously  backing  the  illusory 
by-product  theory  of  consciousness. 

In  any  century  the  desire  of  immortality,  or  at  any  rate, 
of  life  after  death,  is  a  sign  of  youth  and  vitality  and  vigour 
in  those  who  feel  it  keenly.  The  strong  man  wants  to  go 
on  living,  to  have  more  and  more  outlet  for  his  energies, 
to  do  more,  to  feel  more,  to  know  more.  He  wants  it  in- 
stinctively; for  the  stronger  and  healthier  he  is  the  less 
he  is  likely  to  think  about  it  at  all.  When  he  is  old  and 
weak  and  worn  out,  or  young  and  weak,  and  bored  to  prema- 
ture extinction  with  living,  he  does  think  about  it.  He 
wants,  not  instinctively,  but  consciously,  to  lie  down  and 
go  to  sleep,  to  stop  the  intolerable  nuisance  of  living. 

On  the  whole,  then,  the  argument  from  desire  and  de- 
sign holds  good.  It  is  the  weak  and  inefficient,  the  unwise 
in  the  affairs  of  life,  the  bunglers  and  the  failures,  the 
bankrupts  and  the  unhappy  lovers  who  most  want  to  leave 
off  living.  Think  of  the  number  of  suicides  that  occur 
every  year  through  bankruptcy  and  unhappy  love  alone. 


CONCLUSIONS  327 

Count  in  the  suicides  through  poverty ;  and  remember  that 
these  are  all  people  whose  vitality  has  been  lowered  by 
worry  or  frustrated  passion  and  starvation,  and  that  their 
aim  is  to  end  life,  and  not  to  obtain  it  more  abundantly. 

Count  in  the  philosophers  who  profess  a  noble  indiifer- 
ence  to  the  issue,  and  still  a  suspicion  of  lowered  vitality 
arises. 

And  if  suicide  is  to  be  reprobated  on  the  grounds  that  it 
is  dishonourable  and  selfish,  the  desire  to  go  on  living 
cannot  very  well  be  reprobated  on  the  same  grounds.  Its 
motive  may  be,  and  often  is,  the  passion  for  metaphysical 
truth  and  for  a  righteousness  not  obtainable  on  earth.  It 
may  be,  and  often  is,  in  the  highest  degree  aesthetic. 

For  the  universe  as  it  stands  is  ethically  and  aesthetically 
incomplete.  It  has  a  certain  significance  for  our  pe- 
culiarly human  consciousness,  which  never  for  one  mo- 
ment, seize  it  where  we  may,  tails  off  into  insignificance. 
It  appeals  to  us  in  an  incalculable  number  of  intensely 
exciting  sentences,  which  it  hurls  at  our  heads  and  leaves 
provokingly  unfinished.  It  has  made  us  spectators  of  its 
stupendous  drama ;  what  is  more,  it  has  honoured  us  with 
free  passes  as  critics  of  the  performance ;  worse  still,  it  in- 
volves us  personally  in  important  and  dramatic  situations, 
which  it  leaves  undeveloped.  It  involves  itself  in  per- 
petual engagements  to  us  which  hitherto  it  has  not  ful- 
filled. It  creates  desires  which  certainly  cannot  be  satis- 
fied in  one  life-time,  or  in  the  conditions  of  the  only  life  we 
know.  There  is  some  evidence  that  it  has  created,  or  is 
creating,  powers  in  us  whose  exercise  demands  another  and 
more  extensive  sphere.  And  we  find  it  preposterous  that  a 
universe  which  has  unbent  so  far  as  to  consider  us  in  this 
programme  should  leave  us  ultimately  in  the  lurch. 

And  when  we  look  back  on  the  long  course  of  our  pre- 
human history,  we  judge  that,  if  Life  does  turn  traitor  at 
the  last,  it  will  be  behaving  'contrary  to  all  precedent. 
There  should  be  no  arraignment  of  Nature  so  sweeping  as 


328  A  DEFENCE  OF  IDEALISM 

to  obscure  the  fact  that  there  has  been  precedent.  Organic 
forms,  locked  in  the  infernal  struggle  for  existence,  have, 
after  all,  evolved ;  and  the  struggle  has  been  an  important 
factor  in  their  evolution.  Eliminate  catastrophe:  the 
wholesale  fortuitous  destruction  of  living  forms  by  storm 
and  flood  and  sudden  changes  in  environment,  and  the  en- 
counter with  inorganic  conditions  disastrous  to  any  life; 
eliminate  waste:  the  careless  handling  of  the  vehicle  of 
life,  the  fate  of  the  germs  that  have  never  had  a  chance  to 
develop;  eliminate  the  struggle  of  the  already  evolved:  the 
slaughter  accomplished  by  one  species  on  another  and  by 
individuals  within  the  species  ;  assume,  with  Pan-Psychism, 
that  fitness  is  the  expression  of  the  individual's  desire  to 
survive,  and  it  will  be  seen  that  ^Nature  has  not  behaved 
unfairly  to  her  organisms  after  all.  She  has  destroyed 
countless  forms  of  the  unfit,  in  whom  we  may  presuppose 
no  very  keen  desire  to  survive ;  she  has  preserved  at  their 
original  low  level  millions  of  humble  forms  whose  desire 
was  chiefly  that  they  might  stay  there;  but  she  has  re- 
warded greatly  the  great  desires,  the  great  ambitions,  the 
great  accomplishments.  She  has  even  more  rewarded  the 
small  desires,  the  small  ambitions  that  were  faithful  and 
persistent. 

ISTature  abhors  incompetence.  •  But  apparently  no  pa- 
tient and  efiicient  psyche  ever  desired  the  physical  vehicle 
or  tool  that  it  did  not  obtain.  No  appropriate  need  was 
left  long  unsatisfied,  no  organ  left  to  wither  by  disuse 
as  long  as  its  function  was  appropriate  and  the  fulfilment 
of  that  function  desired. 

If  we  may  assume  with  Pan-Psychism  that  need  and  de- 
sire were  prophetic;  that  is  to  say,  always  a  little  in  ad- 
vance of  the  actual  conditions,  without  which  advance  evo- 
lution would  seem  to  have  been  impossible,  the  analogy  is 
complete,  and  we  are  justified  in  asking.  Why  pursue  this 
policy  of  indulgence  to  all  the  ambitious  animal  forms  and 
stop  short  at  man  ?     May  he  not  go  on  doing  what  he  did 


CONCLUSIONS  329 

in  his  mother's  wombj  what  he  has  been  doing  ever  since  his 
psyche  and  the  first  speck  of  protoplasm  came  together  ? 
Why  this  sudden,  arbitrary  prohibition  now,  just  when  he 
is  beginning  to  be  interested  in  the  universe  around  him,  as 
well  as  in  his  own  performance  ? 

Now,  if  there  is  anything  in  Pan-Psychism,  this  argu- 
ment will  stand  whether  we  are  pluralists  or  monists.  But 
I  believe  it  will  have  most  support  from  the  theory  which 
presupposes  that 

"  There  is  one  ruler,  the  Self  within  all  things,  who  makes  the 
one  form  manifold  .  .  . 

"  There  is  one  eternal  Thinker,  thinking  non-eternal  thoughts, 
who,  though  one,  fulfils  the  desires  of  many.  .  .  ."  (^Katha- 
Upanishad,  ii.  5.) 

Buddhism  alone,  the  Great  Exception,  stands,  we  are 
told,  in  the  way  of  the  argument  from  desire. 

But  is  Buddhism  really  so  obstructive  as  it  is  said  to  be  ? 
Isn't  it  just  possible  that  the  Great  Exception  may  prove 
the  rule  ?  Consider  how  it  came  by  its  doctrine  of  Nirvana. 
(Granting,  for  the  moment,  that  by  Nirvana  it  means  what 
we  mean  by  Extinction.)  As  far  as  it  is  a  theory  and  not 
a  religion.  Buddhism  presupposes  the  metaphysical  doctrine 
of  the  Absolute  laid  down  in  the  Upanishads.  So  far  as  it 
is  a  religion,  it  is  founded  on  compassion  and  pity  and  the 
revolt  against  the  cruelty  of  caste.  The  revolt  against  caste 
itself  presupposes  some  influence  from  the  doctrine  of 
Brahma,  the  Great  Self,  in  whom  all  men  and  all  things  are 
one. 

On  its  metaphysical  side  the  Nirvana  of  the  Buddhist  is 
the  state  of  union  with  the  Absolute;  or,  if  you  like,  the 
utter  extinction  of  the  individual  as  such.  On  its  religious 
side  it  is  the  ceasing  from  the  sorrow  of  divided  life.  De- 
sire is  the  cause  of  Life,  which  is  the  cause  of  sorrow ;  there- 
fore Nirvana,  the  state  of  blessedness,  is  attained  by  simply 


330  A  DEFENCE  OF  IDEALISM 

ceasing  to  desire.  Metaphysically,  Nirvana  is  the  state  of 
pure,  absolute,  unconditioned  Being.  It  is  the  very  last 
and  subtlest  refinement  of  the  One  of  the  Vedas,  the  Great 
Self  of  the  Upanishads ;  defined  by  contradictions  and 
negations.  Nirvana  is  defined  only  by  negations.  The 
mystic  of  the  Upanishads  says :  "  Who  is  able  to  know 
that  Self  who  rejoices  and  rejoices  not  ?  "  The  Buddhist 
of  the  Suttas  goes  one  better.  Who  is  able  to  know  that  he 
does  not  know  ?  If  the  sixth  stage  of  mental  deliverance  is 
to  think  that  "  nothing  at  all  exists,"  the  seventh  stage  is 
the  passing  "  quite  beyond  all  idea  of  nothingness  "  to  "  a 
state  to  which  neither  ideas  nor  the  absence  of  ideas  is 
specially  present "  ;  and  that  is  topped  by  the  eighth  stage, 
in  which  nothing  is  affirmed  and  nothing  is  denied,  but 
"  both  sensations  and  ideas  have  ceased  to  be."  (Mahd- 
parinibbdna  8utta,  iii.) 

This  is  the  mental  discipline  by  which  thought  reaches 
up  to  Nirvana,  the  state  which  transcends  thought.  It  is 
"  ecstasy  of  contemplation." 

You  may  say  that  Buddhism  ends  where  Hegelianism 
begins,  with  the  statement  that  Being  and  non-Being  are 
the  same;  that  it  reverses  the  movement  of  the  Triple 
Dialectic ;  that,  instead  of  resolving  the. contradiction  in  the 
synthetic  afiirmation  of  Becoming,  it  proceeds  by  way  of 
the  negation  of  Becoming,  the  denial  of  the  world  of  ap- 
pearances, to  its  definition  of  Being. 

Buddhism  is  the  denial  of  all  the  metaphysical  systems 
that  were  before  it.  You  might  think  a  metaphysical  sys- 
tem did  not  matter.  But  it  matters  hon-ibly.  A  meta- 
physical system  is  a  deadly  thing.  It  may  bind  a  man  to 
the  wheel  of  life  by  giving  him  wrong  ideas  about  reality. 

In  the  Sutta  of  All  the  Asavas  or  Book  of  the  Deadly 
Things  you  will  read  of  the  six  delusions  of  metaphysical 
thought : 

"  I  have  a  self : 


CONCLUSIONS  331 

"  I  have  not  a  self : 

"  By  myself  I  am  conscious  of  myself : 

"  By  myself  I  am  conscious  of  my  not-self : 

"  This  soul  of  mine  can  be  perceived ;  it  has  experienced  the 
result  of  good  and  evil  actions  committed  here  and  there: 

"  This  soul  of  mine  is  permanent,  lasting,  eternal,  unchange- 
able ;  it  will  endure  for  ever  and  ever."  ^^ 

The  delusion  consists  not  in  having  these  ideas,  but  in 
ascribing  truth  and  reality  to  them. 

You  may  say  that  Buddhism  lands  you  in  utter  ne- 
science, since  it  denies  every  conceivable  statement  that  can 
be  made  about  reality. 

But  observe  the  nature  of  the  denial  in  each  case.  It  is 
the  negation  of  a  negation.  In  the  supreme  interests  of 
the  Absolute,  Buddhism  denies  the  reality  of  the  appear- 
ing world ;  it  strips  Being  bare  of  each  unreal  quality  one 
by  one,  till  not  one  shred  of  illusion  is  left  clinging  to  it. 
Beyond  this  it  makes  no  affirmation  or  denial.  As  the 
qualities  are  expressly  stated  to  be  unreal,  the  stripping 
process  is  anything  but  negation.  It  is  the  affirmation  of 
Reality  carried  to  passion  and  excess. 

So  that  the  unreal  individual  life  must  therefore  be  held 
to  be  utterly  extinguished  in  Nirvana.  But  it  is  hardly 
even  an  open  question  whether  Nirvana  is  or  is  not  a  state 
of  Being ;  of  pure  and  perfect  bliss,  beyond  speech,  beyond 
sense,  beyond  thought,  beyond  dream  and  desire  or  any 
form  of  consciousness  we  know.  To  define  it,  as  the  Bud- 
dhist defines  it,  by  a  series  of  negations,  is  simply  a  way  of 
saying,  with  the  utmost  metaphysical  hyperbole,  that  where 
there  is  Nothing  there  is  All. 

But  whatever  esoteric  Buddhism  might  have  said  or 
meant,  it  was  not  entirely  with  that  seemingly  unreal 
glamour  that  it  charmed  the  heart  of  Asia.  For  everything 
that  was  lacking  in  Nirvana  it  made  up  by  its  very  robust 
and  substantial  doctrine  of  Eeincarnation.     To  disciples 


332  A  DEFENCE  OF  IDEALISM 

who  had  no  fancy  for  extinction,  it  offered  an  endless  and 
exciting  round  of  rebirths.  Nobody  forced  Nirvana  on 
you  if  you  didn't  want  it.  You  could  postpone  your  flight 
to  the  Absolute  practically  to  all  eternity  by  a  judicious 
system  of  backsliding.  You  had  only  to  neglect  some  ob- 
vious duty  in  each  life  as  you  returned  to  it  to  ensure 
another  return. 

In  fact,  you  had  not  even  to  do  that.  You  had  only  to 
desire  to  live  again,  and  you  lived.  Your  Karma  might 
indeed  force  you  back  again  against  your  will;  but 
then  you  are  responsible  for  your  Karma.  The  whole 
thing  is  in  your  own  hands.  Desire  binds  you  to  the  wheel 
of  Life.  Desire  shapes  your  destiny  for  you  within  the 
wheel.  Your  desire,  not  God's ;  not  anybody  else's.  It  is 
Pan-Psychism  all  over  again. 

You  grow  your  own  organism  because  you  want  to. 

This  amounts  to  Personal  Immortality  —  as  much  im- 
mortality as  you  want,  and  for  as  long  as  you  want  it. 

So  that  Buddhism  should  really  not  be  used  by  sceptics 
to  justify  their  scepticism.  One  imagines  that  Buddhists 
who  declare  for  Nirvana  in  preference  to  reincarnation  are 
the  decadents,  and  the  professors  of  philosophy,  and  the 
mystics  —  who  know  what  they  know. 

But  there  is  a  third  objection  that  may  be  made. 

In  the  beginning  we  found  the  perfection  of  individuality 
in  perfect  adaptation  to  reality.  And  it  may  be  said  that 
the  argument  from  desire  overlooks  the  compulsion  that  is 
laid  on  the  individual  to  conform.  Things  are  not  in  his 
own  hands.  The  Will-to-live  is  not  his  will.  From  step 
to  step  the  psyche  follows  in  the  lines  set  by  a  reality  out- 
side it,  of  which  its  physical  organism  is  part.  The  pan- 
psychist  looks  at  the  process  from  the  inside.  Adaptation, 
he  says,  does  not  suggest  that  the  individual's  will  is  coerced 
and  determined  by  the  reality  outside  and  beyond  him, 
since  it  could  not  have  taken  place  at  all  but  for  the  indi- 


CONCLUSIONS  333 

vidual's  inner  disposition  or  will.  All  the  same,  physical 
or  spiritual  death  will  be  the  price  of  his  utter  defiance. 
The  individual  must  adapt  himself  or  go  under;  and  if 
that  is  not  coercion,  I  own  it  looks  uncommonly  like  it. 

Yet,  consider  what  (on  the  pan-psychist's  theory)  has 
really  happened :  that  the  individual's  psyche  has  been  pres- 
ent throughout  the  entire  experience  of  the  race,  and  that 
the  individual  could  never  have  been  what  he  is  at  each 
moment  of  his  ascension  if  he  had  not  needed,  wanted,  de- 
sired, and  willed  to  be  something  that  he  was  not  yet. 
Consider  that  he  would  never  have  grown,  never  have  de- 
veloped at  all,  would  be  limited  —  as  many  unambitious  in- 
dividuals are  —  for  all  time  to  the  companionship  of  the 
original  speck  of  protoplasm  he  first  took  up  with.  Even 
if  he  advanced  to  the  cell  stage,  without  what  strikes  the 
outsider  as  his  insane  ambition  to  grow  another  cell,  he 
would  have  remained  a  unicellular  organism  all  his  life. 

Therefore,  on  the  very  supposition  that  his  earliest  adap- 
tations were  to  a  reality  as  yet  outside  and  beyond  him,  his 
earliest  developments  must  have  entailed  some  slight  de- 
fiance of  the  existing  order,  and  his  earliest  need  was  a 
prophetic  need. 

And  when  we  come  to  the  human  individual,  his  latest 
and  highest  developments  mean  a  very  considerable  defiance 
of  existing  order,  a  very  considerable  prophetic  need.  And 
his  latest  and  highest  efforts  at  adaptation  show  an  audacity 
that  still  suggests  defiance  rather  than  submission.  What- 
ever it  may  look  like  from  outside,  adaptation  seen  from 
within,  as  the  pan-psych ist  sees  it,  looks  much  more  like  the 
fulfilment  of  desire  than  its  coercion. 

If  thd  perfect  individual  is  the  self  perfectly  adapted  to 
reality  through  the  successive  sublimations  of  his  will,  the 
monist  will  grant  you  the  compulsion  you  insist  on.  If  the 
laws  of  nature  are  the  laws  of  the  appearance  of  the  Self, 
in  whom  all  selves  arise  and  have  their  being,  the  com- 
pulsion that  is  upon  the  selves  to  obey  them  is  not  an  out- 


334  A  DEFENCE  OF  IDEALISM 

side  compulsion.     It  is  the  compulsion  of  their  own  nature 
in  its  will  to  appear. 

Ill 

To  sum  up  the  metaphysical  argument  that  we  left  be- 
hind us.  It  supposes  one  infinite  and  absolute  Spirit  mani- 
festing itself  in  many  forms  to  many  finite  spirits.  It 
supposes  the  selves  of  the  many  finite  spirits  to  receive  and 
to  maintain  their  reality  in  and  through  the  one  infinite 
Self  as  truly  as  their  organisms  received  and  maintained 
their  life  through  Its  appearance  as  one  Life-Force. 

For  though  the  finite  selves  may  exist  over  and  above 
their  organisms  and  their  experience,  and  apart  from  each 
other,  they  do  not  subsist ;  they  are  not  over  and  above  and 
apart  from  the  one  Self  in  whom  they  have  their  reality. 
But  the  finite  selves  may  be  supposed  to  be  potentially  in- 
finite, since  they  have  conceived  infinity.  It  would  seem 
hardly  worth  while  for  the  infinite  Spirit  to  have  revealed 
himself  so  far  if  the  tremendous  and  significant  process 
was  not  to  be  carried  on.  Appearances  may  be  unreal,  but 
they  are  significant.  Why  be  at  the  pains  of  accumulating 
experiences  through  countless  generations  if  the  whole  is 
to  be  squandered  in  one  passionate  instant  of  death  ? 

But  —  on  the  theory  —  it  will  not  by  any  means  follow 
that,  if  we  survive,  we  shall  survive  as  the  individuals  we 
are  now,  or  even  as  individuals  at  all.  Selfhood,  as  we 
have  seen,  is  not  necessarily  individuality.  If  our  selves 
existed  at  all  before  birth,  they  would  seem  to  have  existed 
as  members  of  a  group-self,  or  as  mysterious  partakers  in 
the  experiences  of  millions  of  individuals;  anyhow  in  a 
manner  utterly  incompatible  with  individuality  as  we  un- 
derstood it  here  and  now.  And  yet,  on  that  theory,  self- 
hood seemed  to  have  been  very  efficiently  maintained. 

Even  in  our  experience  here  and  now,  though  our  self- 
hood would  seem  to  remain  inviolable,  our  individuality 
holds  its  own  precariously,  at  times,  and  with  difficulty 


CONCLUSION'S  335 

against  the  forces  that  tend  to  draw  us  back  to  our  racial 
consciousness  again.  The  facts  of  multiple  personality, 
telepathy  and  suggestion,  the  higher  as  well  as  the  lower 
forms  of  dream-consciousness,  indicated  that  our  psychic 
life  is  not  a  water-tight  compartment,  but  has  porous  walls, 
and  is  continually  threatened  with  leakage  and  the  flooding 
in  of  many  streams. 

It  may  be  that  individuality  is  only  one  stage,  and  that 
not  the  highest  and  the  most  important  stage,  in  the  real 
life-process  of  the  self.  It  may  be  that  a  self  can  only  be- 
come a  perfect  self  in  proportion  as  it  takes  on  the  expe- 
riences of  other  selves ;  just  as  it  could  only  become  a  per- 
fect individual  by  taking  on  the  experience  of  millions 
of  other  individuals. 

The  individual,  that  is  to  say,  may  have  to  die  that  the 
self  may  live. 

On  the  theory,  this  sacrifice  would  not  mean  what  is 
called  "  subjective  immortality,"  but  rather  the  very  oppo- 
site. In  subjective  immortality  the  individual  lives  pre- 
cariously in  the  memory  of  posterity  which  may,  after  all, 
prefer  to  forget  him.  In  any  case  it  is  a  form  of  con- 
sciousness to  which,  on  this  theory,  he  has  contributed  but 
does  not  share.  He  has  no  consciousness  of  anything  any 
more  at  all.  But  the  life  after  death  of  the  perfected  self 
would  mean  an  enormous  increase  of  consciousness,  through 
a  spiritual  communion  in  which  all  that  is  imperfect  in 
passion,  all  that  is  tentative  in  compassion  and  insight  and 
inspiration  is  finished  and  complete. 

But  the  greatest  objection  to  the  acceptance  of  this  form 
of  Monism  turns  on  the  difficulty,  not  to  say  the  impossi- 
bility, of  conceiving  lioiv  the  selfliood  of  the  finite  selves  is 
maintained  in  and  through  their  fusion  with  the  infinite 
Self. 

!N'ow  there  are  certain  forms  of  dream-consciousness  in 
which  precisely  such  a  transfusion  is  apparently  effected 


336  A  DEFENCE  OF  IDEALISM 

and  maintained.  I  can  vouch  for  one  authentic  dream 
which  began  in  the  most  ordinary  fashion  by  the  dreamer 
imagining  a  complex  dramatic  situation  involving  three 
persons,  not  counting  the  dreamer  herself.  The  situation 
itself  was  normal,  and  imagined  in  a  perfectly  normal  way, 
without  a  single  element  of  phantasy.  The  dreamer,  so 
far,  was  simply  dreaming  the  outline  of  a  very  ordinary 
novel  or  a  play. 

But  no  sooner  did  the  outline  and  the  parts  to  be  played 
by  the  three  persons  become  clear,  then  the  dreamer  became 
the  three  persons,  and  experienced,  in  one  and  the  same 
moment,  three  sets  of  emotions,  all  distinct  from  each 
other,  two  of  which  were  conflicting  and  two  downright  con- 
tradictory ;  she  accomplished  in  one  and  the  same  moment, 
through  the  three  persons,  three  distinct  and  different  acts, 
two  of  which  were  mutually  exclusive;  besides  maintain- 
ing three  distinct  and  appropriate  attitudes  to  the  total 
event. 

While  playing,  with  perfect  difference  yet  perfect  unity, 
these  three  parts  in  the  drama,  the  dreamer  also  stood  apart 
and  looked  on,  an  unprejudiced  and  unmoved  yet  interested 
spectator.  The  actors,  who  appeared  as  very  vividly  in- 
carnate, bore  no  sort  of  resemblance  to  the  dreamer  or  to 
any  person  known  to  her.  From  beginning  to  end,  not 
only  three  distinct  experiences,  but  three  distinct  selfhoods 
were  preserved  in  one  experience  and  one  selfhood. 

It  may  be  objected  that,  as  dreams  are  hallucinations, 
we  cannot  argue  from  what  happens  in  a  dream  to  what 
may  happen  in  reality ;  that  under  analysis  this  particular 
dream  presents  no  more  remarkable  features  than  any 
other  dream ;  and  that  the  peculiar  qualities  claimed  for  it 
are  classic  features  of  the  Freudian  hypocritical  dream: 
multiplication  of  the  dreamer's  person  by  substitution  of 
other  persons,  and  representation  of  events  consecutive  in 
time  by  juxtaposition  in  space/'^ 

The  third  objection,  which  might  have  been  serious,  does 


CONCLUSIONS  337 

not  hold  good  of  this  dream.  Emotions  and  moral  atti- 
tudes, and  the  sense  of  personal  identity,  whether  simple 
and  distinct,  or  complex  and  transfused,  are  not  repre- 
sentations in  space,  either  in  dream-consciousness  or  in 
any  other.  And  in  the  dream  they  were  not  symbolized, 
but  felt;  in  the  perfect,  intimate  immediacy  of  feeling. 

And  the  other  objections  are  beside  the  point.  It  does 
not  matter  whether  dreams  are  or  are  not  hallucinations ;  it 
does  not  matter  what  interpretation  we  put  upon  this 
dream,  or  what  elements  it  yields  under  analysis.  Dream 
consciousness  is  a  form  of  consciousness  like  another ;  it  has 
its  own  reality.  It  is  not  claimed  for  this  dream  that  a 
"  real "  transfusion  of  consciousness  and  of  selves  took 
place  in  it,  only  that  it  gave  a  perfect  and  indubitable  sense 
of  such  transfusion,  of  what  it  would  feel  like  if  the  trans- 
fusion did  take  place ;  also  that,  as  the  dream  was  at  least 
clear  enough  and  coherent  enough  to  be  remembered  and 
analysed  by  the  dreamer,  their  remained  in  waking  con- 
sciousness a  valid  conception  of  the  whole  synthetic  event 
—  a  synthetic  event  which  was  said  to  be  inconceivable. 

Euling  out  irrelevant  objections,  then,  there  are  only 
three  points  that  need  concern  us.  We  have  in  this  dream- 
consciousness  a  plurality  of  illusory  consciousnesses,  a 
plurality  of  illusory  selves,  held  together  by  one  "  real  " 
self,  and  existing  in  and  through  and  for  one  real  conscious- 
ness, and  that  without  loss  to  the  integrity  of  one  illusory 
item  of  the  illusory  complex,  without  any  rupture  of  the 
unity  of  the  one  self. 

The  complex  is  illusory  only  by  comparison  with  the  pe- 
culiar reality  of  waking  consciousness.  It,  however,  exists ; 
it  has  its  own  dream  reality.  It  arises,  presumably,  be 
cause  the  dream  consciousness  is  free  from  those  condi- 
tions of  real  space  and  real  time  which  determine  the 
psycho-physical  life  of  the  individual  when  awake. 

For  "  illusory  "  read  "  finite,"  and  you  have  an  exact 
rendering  of  the  situation  assumed  by  pantheistic  Monism : 


338  A  DEFENCE  OF  IDEALISM 

A  plurality  of  finite  consciousnesses,  a  plurality  of  finite 
selves,  held  together  by  one  Eeal  Self,  existing  in  and 
through  and  for  one  Eeal  consciousness ;  and  that  without 
loss  to  the  integrity  of  one  finite  item  of  the  finite  com- 
plex, without  rupture  to  the  unity  of  the  one  Self.  You 
may  say  that  the  finite  complex  is  unreal  only  by  com- 
parison with  the  peculiar  reality  of  the  infinite  Real.  It 
has  its  own  reality.  And  you  may  say  that  the  situation 
assumed  by  the  monist  presupposes  a  corresponding  trans- 
cendence of  the  conditions  of  finite  space  and  finite  time. 

The  one  Infinite  Spirit,  then,  is  the  finite  selves.  That 
the  selves  are  not  conscious  of  this  union  is  the  tragedy  of 
their  finitude.  In  our  present  existence  we  are  spirit ;  but 
so  limited  in  our  experience  that  we  know  the  appearances 
of  Spirit  far  better  than  we  know  Spirit  itself.  If  we 
knew  them  all,  and  if,  in  order  to  know  them,  it  so  hap- 
pened that  we  increased  the  pace  of  the  rhythm  of  time  as 
it  is  increased  in  our  dream-consciousness,  only  to  an  im- 
measurably more  intense  degree,  the  chances  are  that  we 
should  know  Spirit,  not  as  it  appears,  but  as  it  is.^^  Ap- 
pearances would  be  whirled  for  us,  as  it  were,  into  the  one 
Reality,  as  the  colours  of  the  spectrum,  painted  on  a  re- 
volving disc,  are  whirled  into  one  whiteness  by  the  sheer 
rapidity  of  its  revolutions. 

There  are,  after  all,  different  kinds  of  certainty.  And 
all  our  certainties  that  count,  here  and  now,  come  to  us 
after  this  fashion.  Our  inner  states  do  succeed  each  other 
at  different  rates  of  vibration,  and  what  escapes  us  on  the 
slow,  steady  swing,  we  seize  when  the  pace  quickens.  Our 
perceptions,  like  our  passions,  maintain  themselves  at 
higher  and  lower  intensities.  It  is  with  such  rapid  flashes 
of  the  revolving  disc,  with  such  hurrying  of  the  rhythm  of 
time,  with  such  heightening  of  psychic  intensity  that  we 
discern  Reality  here  and  now. 

'No  reasoning  allows  or  accounts  for  these  moments. 
But  lovers   and  poets   and  painters   and  musicians   and 


conclusio:ns  339 

mystics  and  heroes  know  them:  moments  when  eternal 
Beauty  is  seized  travelling  through  time ;  moments  when 
things  that  we  have  seen  all  our  lives  without  truly  seeing 
them,  the  flowers  in  the  garden,  the  trees  in  the  field,  the 
hawthorn  on  the  hillside,  change  to  us  in  an  instant  of  time, 
and  show  the  secret  and  imperishable  life  they  harbour; 
moments  when  the  human  creature  we  have  known  all  our 
life  without  truly  knowing  it,  reveals  its  incredible  god- 
head; moments  of  danger  that  are  moments  of  sure  and 
perfect  happiness,  because  then  the  adorable  Eeality  gives 
itself  to  our  very  sight  and  touch. 

There  is  no  arguing  against  certainties  like  these. 


APPENDIX 

THE  PAN-PSYCHISM  OF  SAMUEL  BUTLER 

Pages  1-43 

1.  Psycho-analysis  and  the  problems  it  raises  are  the  subject  of 
a  sequel  to  this  volume,  The  Way  of  Sublimation. 

2.  "  The  neurotic,  far  more  plainly  than  the  normal  psyche 
shows  us  that  '  Through  the  great  Being  that  surrounds  and  in- 
terpenetrates us  stretches  a  great  Becoming  that  strives  for  per- 
fected Being.' "  (Dr.  Alfred  Adler,  Ueher  den  Nervosen  Char- 
acter, p.  195.) 

3.  See  Freud,  The  Interpretation  of  Dreams,  On  Dreams;  and 
Jung,  Analytical  Psychology  (translation  by  Dr.  Constance 
Long)  and  The  Psychology  of  the  Unconscious  (translation  by 
Dr.  Beatrice  Hinkle,  M.D.,  New  York). 

4.  See  The  Way  of  Sublimation. 

5.  See  Life  and  Habit,  Unconscious  Memory,  Evolution  Old 
and  New,  Luck  or  Cunning?  God  the  Known  and  God  the  Un- 
known, and  The  Note-Books  of  Samuel  Butler. 

6.  See  Unconscious  Memory;  translation  of  Professor  Ewald 
Bering's  Address  on  "  Memory  as  a  Universal  Function  of  Or- 
ganized Matter." 

7.  Note-Books,  p.  56. 

8.  It  is  worth  while  noting  that  consciousness  of  all  these 
functions  may  be  partially  restored  through  disease  or  disorder 
of  the  organs  involved,  and  that  we  have  even  in  normal  health 
a  certain  very  limited  and  temporary  control  over  our  breath- 
ing, while  in  illness  we  "  fight  for  our  breath  " —  make  an  effort 
to  breathe.  We  have  in  normal  circumstances  a  certain  still 
more  limited  control  over  the  beating  of  our  hearts;  that  is  to 
say,  we  can  increase  or  reduce  palpitation  by  attention  or  in- 
attention. This  fact  is  so  well  recognized  by  doctors  that  they 
will  not  always  allow  a  patient  to  know  that  he  has  "  something 
the  matter  "  with  his  heart.  But  by  no  fighting  and  no  effort 
can  normal  people,  even  in  abnormal  circumstances,  re-estab- 
lish control  over  their  digestive  functions,  which  are  the  oldest 
of  all. 

Abnormal  people,  however,  can  acconiplish  a  good  d^al  in  this 

341  ~ 


342  A  DEFENCE  OF  IDEALISM 

line.  The  practisers  of  Yogi  have  so  far  organized  control  over 
the  "  Unconscious  "  that  they  can  lower  the  action  of  the  heart 
and  lungs  till  both  functions  are  apparently  suspended;  they 
can  reverse  the  movements  of  the  intestines ;  inhibit  the  physical 
phenomena  of  hunger,  and  play  other  tricks,  more  or  less  re- 
volting, with  their  organs.  Persons  suffering  from  profound 
hysterical  neurosis  can  do  as  much.  Probably  most  instances 
of  the  ability  to  fast  for  abnormal  periods  come  under  this  head. 
So  that  it  would  seem  that  the  links  between  the  Conscious  and 
the  Unconscious,  between  reflex  and  voluntary  action  have 
never  been  completely  lost.  It  is  even  conceivable  that,  if  we 
cared  to  pay  the  price,  we  could  recover  them  completely,  and 
"  by  taking  thought "  become  once  more  mere  breathing  and  di- 
gesting organisms,  animated  by  a  rudimentary  psyche.  People 
who  pride  themselves  upon  the  possession  of  such  abnormal 
powers  should  realize  precisely  what  it  is  that  they  are  doing. 

9.  Life  and  Hahit,  p.  47. 

10.  ".  .  .  We  may  assume  it  as  an  axiom  with  regard  to  ac- 
tions acquired  after  birth,  that  we  never  do  them  automatically 
save  as  the  result  of  long  practice,  and  after  having  thus  ac- 
quired perfect  mastery  over  the  action  in  question."  {Life  and 
Eahit,  p.  53.) 

11.  "  Shall  we  say,  then,  that  a  baby  of  a  day  old  sucks  (which 
involves  the  whole  principle  of  the  pump  and  hence  a  profound 
practical  knowledge  of  the  laws  of  pneumatics  and  hydrostatics), 
digests,  oxygenizes  its  blood  (millions  of  years  before  Sir  Hum- 
phry Davy  discovered  oxygen),  sees  and  hears  —  all  most  diffi- 
cult and  complicated  operations,  involving  a  knowledge  of  the 
facts  concerning  optics  and  acoustics,  compared  with  which  the 
discoveries  of  Newton  sink  into  utter  insignificance?  Shall  we 
say  that  a  baby  can  do  all  these  things  at  once,  doing  them  so 
well  and  so  regularly,  without  being  even  able  to  direct  its  at- 
tention to  them,  and  without  mistakes,  and  at  the  same  time  not 
know  how  to  do  them,  and  never  have  done  them  before  ? " 
(Life  and  Hahit,  p.  54.) 

Of  course  if  you  are  going  to  be  pedantic  and  literal  about  it, 
you  can  say  that  the  baby's  action  may  indeed  "  involve  "  the 
"principle"  of  the  pump,  but  that  it  need  not  and  does  not 
involve  a  "  knowledge  of  the  laws  of  pneumatics,"  etc.  "  In- 
volving "  is  a  treacherous  word  in  this  connection ;  but  Butler's 
meaning  is  clear:  that  the  baby's  instinctive  and  practical 
knowledge  is  superior  (for  its  purposes)  to  all  other  kinds  of 
knowledge. 

12.  Life  and  Hahit,  pp.  55,  56. 


APPENDIX  343 

13.  Note-Boohs  of  Samuel  Butler,  pp.  53,  54. 

14.  Life  and  Habit,  p.  130. 

15.  Life  and  Habit,  p.  131. 

16.  Life  and  Habit,  p.  51, 

The  older  physiology  might  have  accounted  for  the  coinci- 
dences on  the  grounds  that  our  visceral  functions  are  controlled 
by  that  system  of  reflexes  which  used  to  be  known  as  the  "  sym- 
pathetic "  system,  working  "  on  its  own,"  But  now  that  the 
voluntary  and  involuntary  sensori-motor  arcs  are  found  to  be 
connected,  Butler's  coincidence  remains  as  singular  as  ever  from 
the  purely  physical  standpoint, 

"  The  muscles  of  the  visceral  system  are  connected  by  sen- 
sori-motor arcs  principally  with  sense-organs  that  are  embedded 
in  the  viscera,  and  are  stimulated  by  movements,  pressures,  and 
chemical  changes  in  the  viscera;  and  these  arcs  constitute  a 
system  of  nerves  that  was  for  long  considered  to  be  quite  separate 
from,  and  independent  of,  the  other  larger  system,  and  was 
known  as  the  sympathetic  system.  We  know  now,  however, 
that  the  two  systems  of  sensori-motor  arcs,  the  skeletal  or  vol- 
untary "  [involved  in  "  all  those  movements  of  the  limbs,  trunk, 
head,  and  organs  of  speech  by  which  relations  with  the  outer 
world  are  maintained"],  "and  the  visceral  or  involuntary  are 
intimately  connected,"  (William  McDougall,  Physiological 
Psychology,  p.  16.) 

17.  Note-Books,  pp.  39-92. 

18.  For  these  extensions  and  confirmations  of  Butler's  theory, 
see  Life  and  Habit,  pp.  166-197  and  220-251. 

19.  Dr,  McDougall,  in  his  one  reference  to  Butler  in  Body 
and  Mind,  supposes  him  to  have  declared  that  all  memory  and 
instinct  are  merely  habit,  whereas  Butler  maintains  the  very 
opposite, 

20.  Life  and  Habit,  p,  49.  See  also  Luck  or  Cunning?  pp. 
20-70. 

21.  Note-Books,  pp.  47-55;  Life  and  Habit,  pp.  78-124;  Luck 
or  Cunning?  pp.  23,  24,  25, 

22.  See  Lotze,  Metaphysik,  p.  602. 
Also  infra,  pp.  120,  121. 

SOME  ULTIMATE  QUESTIONS  OE  PSYCHOLOGY 

Pages  67-108 

23.  "  Eeeling-tone,  as  the  word  implies,  is  in  some  way  depend- 
ent on  the  sensations.  Nevertheless,  the  feeling-tone  is  in 
some  degree  independent  of  sensation-quality;  for  one  quality 


344  A  DEFENCE  OF  IDEALISM 

of  sensation  may  be  at  one  time  pleasant,  at  another  unpleasant, 
and  at  a  third  have  no  appreciable  feeling-tone."  (William 
McDougall,  Physiological  Psychology,  pp.  79,  80,  See  also  Body 
and  Mind,  pp.  312-313.) 

24.  See  infra,  pp.  76,  77,  112,  113. 

25.  Body  and  Mind,  pp.  211  et  seq.,  pp.  215-220. 

".  .  .  we  may  believe  that  the  essential  peculiarity  of  living 
organisms  is  that  they  serve  as  channels  of  communication  or 
of  transmission  of  energy  or  influence  from  the  psychical  to  the 
physical  sphere;  and  we  may  believe  also  that  the  evolution  of 
organisms  has  been  essentially  a  process  by  which  they  have  be- 
come better  adapted  to  play  this  unique  role."  {Body  and 
Mind,  p.  221.) 

26.  Ibid.  pp.  151,  180. 

27.  See  Fechner,  Psycho-Physih,  In  Sache  der  Psycho-Physik, 
Ueher  die  Seelen  Frage,  Zend-Avesta. 

28.  Body  and  Mind,  pp.  319-321,  340,  341,  343;  also 
Physiological  Psychology,  p.  146. 

29.  Certain  experiments  seem  to  show  that  it  is  possible  to 
measure  the  output  of  nervous  energy  by  studying  the  influence 
of  fatigue  in  the  curve  of  muscular  work  or  in  the  reduction 
of  sensitivity  to  stimuli.  And  still  we  are  as  far  as  ever  from  a 
satisfactory  demonstration  of  strict  psycho-physical  parallelism. 
For  in  the  nature  of  the  case  results,  when  obtainable,  will  be 
drawn,  not  from  comparison  of  complicated  experiences,  involv- 
ing an  extensive  psychic  output,  but  from  single,  simple  opera- 
tions, such  as  the  raising  of  a  weight,  or  (in  the  case  of  stimula- 
tion of  the  optic  nerve)  the  rapid  turning  of  a  coloured  disc. 
Even  granted  that  these  experiments  are  successful,  the  propor- 
tion thus  established  between  muscular  innervation  and  mus- 
cular fatigue,  between  nerve  stimulus  and  nerve  fatigue  falls 
within  the  nervous  system ;  that  is  to  say,  it  holds  good  only  on 
the  physical  line.  The  psychic  process  (which  is  not  to  be  con- 
founded with  the  neural  process)  eludes  the  test.  As  you  can 
never  catch,  as  it  were,  your  psychic  total,  psychic  increment  can 
neither  be  proved  nor  disproved. 

SOME  ULTIMATE  QUESTIONS  OF  METAPHYSICS 
Pages  109-126 

30.  Supra,  "  Vitalism,"  pp.  44-^8. 

PRAGMATISM  AND  HUMANISM 

Pages  127-150. 

31.  Humanism  and  Riddles  of  the  Sphinx. 

32.  F.  C.  S.  Schiller,  Preface  to  Humanism,  p.  xviii. 


APPENDIX  345 

THE  NEW  EEALISM 
Pages  151-239 

33.  "  Symbolic,"  because  the  laws  of  Formal  Logic  concern 
only  the  connections  between  propositions,  and  these  proposi- 
tions can  be  stated  in  terms  of  "  variables."  For  example :  If  x 
is  greater  than  y  and  y  is  greater  than  z,  then  x  is  greater  than  z. 

The  connection  between  the  propositions  holds  good  for  eveiy 
value  (variable)  of  x  and  y.  X  and  y  thus  stand  as  "  sym- 
bolic "  of  everything  to  which  the  proposition  can  validly  apply. 

34.  "  The  distinction  of  mathematics  from  logic  is  very  arbi- 
trary, but  ...  it  can  be  made  as  follows.  Logic  consists  of  the 
premisses  of  mathematics,  together  with  all  other  propositions 
which  are  concerned  exclusively  with  logical  constants  and 
with  variables,  but  do  not  fulfil  the  above  definition  of  mathe- 
matics.^ Mathematics  consists  of  all  the  consequences  of  the 
above  premisses  which  assert  formal  implications  containing 
variables,  together  with  such  of  the  premisses  themselves  as  bear 
these  marks.  Thus  some  of  the  premisses  of  mathematics,  e.g. 
the  principle  of  the  syllogism  if  p  implies  q  and  q  implies  r, 
then  p  implies  r,  will  belong  to  mathematics,  while  others,  such 
as  "  implication  is  a  relation,"  will  belong  to  logic,  but  not  to 
mathematics.  But  for  the  desire  to  adhere  to  usage  we  might 
identify  mathematics  and  logic,  and  define  either  as  the  class  of 
propositions  containing  only  variables  and  logical  constants." 
(Principia  Mathematica,  p.  9.) 

"  The  distinction  between  a  variable  and  a  constant  is  some- 
what obscured  by  mathematical  usage.  ...  A  constant  is  to  be 
something  absolutely  definite,  concerning  which  there  is  no 
ambiguity  whatever.  Thus  1,  2,  3,  e,  tt,  Socrates,  are  constants, 
and  so  are  man  and  the  human  race,  past,  present,  and  future, 
considered  collectively.  Proposition,  implication,  class,  etc., 
are  constants;  but  a  proposition,  any  proposition,  some  proposi- 
tions are  not  constants,  for  these  phrases  do  not  denote  one 
definite  object."     (Ihid.  p.  6.) 

1"  Pure  Mathematics  is  the  class  of  all  propositions  of  the  form 
of  p  implies  q  where  p  and  q  are  propositions  containing  one  or 
more  variables,  the  same  in  the  two  propositions,  and  neither  p  nor 
q  contains  any  constants  except  logical  constants.  And  logical  con- 
stants are  all  notions  definable  in  terms  of  the  following:  Implica- 
tion, the  relation  of  a  term  to  the  class  of  which  it  is  a  member,  the 
notion  of  such  that,  the  notion  of  relation,  and  such  further  notions 
as  may  be  involved  in  the  general  notion  of  propositions  of  the  above 
form.  In  addition  to  these,  mathematics  uses  a  notion  which  is  not 
a  constituent  of  the  propositions  which  it  considers,  namely,  the  no- 
tion of  truth."      (Principia  Mathematica,  p.  3.) 


346  A  DEFENCE  OF  IDEALISM 

"  The  connection  of  mathematics  with  logic,  according  to 
the  above  account,  is  exceedingly  close.  The  fact  that  all 
mathematical  constants  are  logical  constants,  and  that  all  the 
premisses  of  mathematics  are  concerned  with  these,  gives,  I 
believe,  the  precise  statement  of  what  philosophers  have  meant 
in  asserting  that  mathematics  is  a  priori.  The  fact  is,  that  when 
once  the  apparatus  of  logic  has  been  accepted,  all  mathematics 
necessarily  follow."     (Ihid.  p.  8.) 

35.  Bertrand  Russell,  Our  Knowledge  of  the  External  World, 
pp.  87  et  seq.     Also  infra,  American  Edition,  pp.  168,  169,  170. 

It  should  be  borne  in  mind  that  the  conclusion,  so  distressing 
for  the  idealist,  is  not  forced  on  him  by  the  mathematical  defini- 
tion of  continuity.  Physics,  Mr.  Russell  tells  us,  accepts  the 
ideal  elements  of  mathematics  without  enquiry  into  their  reality. 
"  It  is  unnecessary,  for  the  enunciation  of  the  laws  of  physics, 
to  assign  any  reality  to  ideal  elements :  it  is  enough  to  accept 
them  as  logical  constructions,  provided  we  have  means  of  know- 
ing how  to  determine  wl:ien  they  become  actual."  After  all,  the 
fact  remains  that  mathematical  continuity  is  based  on  purely 
fictitious  or  "  ideal "  points  and  instances,  assumed  for  the 
purpose  of  constructing  a  self-consistent  definition. 

"  Les  axiomes  geometriques  ne  sont  .  .  .  ni  des  jugements 
synthetiques  a  priori,  ni  des  faits  experimentaux. 

"  Ce  sont  des  conventions ;  notre  choix  parmi  toutes  les  con- 
ventions possibles,  est  guide  par  des  faits  experimentaux;  mais 
il  reste  lihre  et  n'est  limite  que  par  la  necessite  d'eviter  toute 
contradiction  .  .  .  ;  les  axiomes  de  la  geometric  .  .  .  ne  sont 
que  des  definitions  deguisees."  (Poincare,  La  Science  et  I'Hy- 
pothese,  p.  66.) 

Since,  further,  mathematical  space  and  time  are  absolute  and 
infinite,  and  actual  space  is  an  afl^air  of  relations  and  correla- 
tions, you  cannot  argue  from  the  continuity  of  mathematical 
space  to  the  continuity  of  actual  space  and  of  the  things  that 
occupy  it.  How,  then,  are  we  to  determine  when  the  ideal  ele- 
ments "  become  actual  "  ?  All  that  Realism  can  hope  to  gain  is 
the  proof  that  its  own  logical  constructions — founded  on  a 
purely  ideal  "  convention  " —  can  be  manipulated  so  as  to  exclude 
contradiction.  The  crucial  problem  for  Realism  will  be  how 
to  effect  such  constructions  and  correlations  as  shall  be  equally 
self-consistent ;  how,  in  short,  to  reduce  "  the  haphazard,  un- 
tidy world  of  immediate  sensation  to  the  smooth,  orderly  world 
of  geometry  and  kinetics."  In  immediate  experience  correla- 
tion is  going  on  all  the  time. 

"  The  first  thing  to  notice  is  that  different  senses  have  dif- 


APPENDIX  347 

ferent  spaces.  The  space  of  siglit  is  quite  different  from  the 
space  of  touch :  it  is  only  by  experience  in  infancy  that  we  learn 
to  correlate  them.  .  .  .  The  one  space  into  which  both  kinds 
of  sensations  fit  is  an  intellectual  construction,  not  a  datum. 
.  .  .  The  one  all-embracing  space,  though  convenient  as  a  way 
of  speaking — " 

(Still  more  convenient,  one  would  imagine,  as  a  way  of 
thinking) — "need  not  be  supposed  really  to  exist."  (Ow 
Knowledge  of  the  External  World,  p.  113.) 

What  could  the  idealist  wish  for  more? 

However,  Dr.  Whitehead  has  invented  a  method  "  for  the 
purpose  of  showing  how  points  might  be  manipulated  from  sense- 
data."  It  amounts  to  this:  You  can,  by  an  effort  of  atten- 
tion, regard  your  bit  of  finite  space  (volume  or  surface)  as  con- 
sisting of  parts  contained  in  a  whole.  You  obtain  your  points 
by  a  system  or  series  of  diminishing  enclosures  converging  to  a 
point.  The  "  enclosure-relation  "  is  called  a  "  point-producer." 
Again,  I  must  leave  the  process  to  Mr.  Russell  to  explain. 

"  Given  any  relation  of  enclosure,  we  will  call  a  set  of  ob- 
jects an  enclosure-series.  We  require  a  condition  which  shall 
secure  that  an  enclosure-series  converges  to  a  point,  and  this  is 
obtained  as  follows:  Let  our  enclosure-series  be  such  that, 
given  any  other  enclosure-series  of  which  there  are  members 
enclosed  in  any  arbitrarily-chosen  member  of  our  first  series, 
then  there  are  members  of  our  first  series  enclosed  in  any  arbi- 
trarily-chosen member  of  our  second  series.  In  this  case,  our 
first  enclosure-series  may  be  called  a  '  punctual  enclosure-series.' 
Then  a  '  point '  is  all  the  objects  which  enclose  members  of  a 
given  '  punctual  enclosure-series.'  In  order  to  ensure  infinite 
divisibility,  we  require  one  further  property  to  be  added  to  those 
defining  point-producers,  namely,  that  any  object  which  encloses 
itself  also  encloses  an  object  other  than  itself.  The  '  points ' 
generated  by  point-producers  with  this  property  will  be  found 
to  be  such  as  geometry  requires."     (Ibid.  p.  115.) 

You  have  got,  that  is  to  say,  by  logical  manipulation,  another 
self-consistent  definition;  but  you  are  no  nearer  to  solving  the 
problem  of  how  ideal  elements  "  become  actual."  All  this 
"  manufacture  "  and  "  manipulation  "  and  "  construction  "  is 
far  more  like  the  despised  "  work  of  thought "  than  that  pas- 
sive contemplation  of  spectacular  realities  which  atomistic 
Realism  assumes.  And  the  entire  universe  of  space  and  time 
depends  on  it ! 

Again,  Poincare : 

"  On  voit  que  I'experience  joue  une  role  indispensable  dans  la 


348  A  DEFENCE  OF  IDEALISM 

genese  de  la  geometrie;  mais  ce  serait  une  erreur  d'en  conclure 
que  la  geometrie  est  une  science  experimentale,  meme  eu 
partie.  .  .  . 

"  La  geometrie  ne  serait  que  I'etude  des  mouvements  des 
solides ;  mais  elle  ne  s'occupe  pas  en  realite  des  solides  naturels, 
elle  a  pour  objets  certain  solides  ideaux,  absolument  in  variables, 
qui  n'en  sont  qu'une  image  simplifiee  et  bien  lointaine. 

"  La  notion  de  ces  corps  ideaux  est  tiree  de  toutes  pieces  de 
notre  esprit  et  I'experience  n'est  qu'une  occasion  qui  nous  en- 
gage a  Ten  faire  sortir. 

"  Ce  qui  est  I'objet  de  la  geometrie,  c'est  I'etude  d'un  *  groupe ' 
particulier;  mais  le  concept  generale  de  groupe  preexiste  dans 
notre  esprit  au  moins  en  puissance.  II  s'impose  a  nous,  non 
comme  forme  de  notre  sensibilite,  mais  comme  forme  de  notre 
entendement."     {La  Science  et  I'Hypothese,  p.  90.) 

Could  anything  be  plainer? 

36.  Bertrand  Russell,  The  Problems  of  Philosophy ,  pp.  142, 
157;  Cecil  Delisle  Burns,  William  of  OcTcham  on  Universals. 

37.  Bertrand  Russell,  "  The  Monistic  Theory  of  Truth "  in 
Philosophical  Essays. 

Also  Ralph  Barton  Perry,  "  A  Realistic  Theory  of  Independ- 
ence," and  William  Pepperell  Montague,  "  A  Realistic  Theory 
of  Truth  and  Error"  in  The  New  Realists:  A  Symposium  of 
Six.     (The  Macmillan  Company,  New  York.) 

38.  It  is  on  this  narrow  plot  of  thought  that  Hegel's  critics 
and  his  followers  have  joined  issue,  and  to  the  unprejudiced 
spectator  of  their  conflicts  they  seem  to  have  been  leagued  to- 
gether to  suppress  every  word  that  Hegel  ever  wrote  outside  the 
three  fat  volumes  of  his  Logic.  Of  course  if  you  take  the  Logic 
as  the  whole  of  Hegel,  and  as  the  beginning  and  end  of  the 
Transcendental  Philosophy,  there  is  no  charge  that  his  opponents 
ever  brought  against  him,  and  no  travesty  of  his  system  that  his 
followers  ever  perpetrated,  so  absurd  that  it  could  not  be  justified. 

And  if  this  were  all,  Hegelianism  would  be,  indeed,  what  some 
unsympathetic  person  said  it  was,  "  a  dance  of  bloodless  cate- 
gories." I  forget  who  was  responsible  for  the  pleasant  fancy 
that  when  German  philosophies  die  their  ghosts  go  to  Oxford. 
It  was  certainly  the  ghost  of  Hegelianism  that  inhabited  Balliol 
in  the  'eighties,  till  its  ceaseless  hauntings  provoked  the  healthy 
reaction  of  Pragmatism  and  Humanism.  Goodness  knows  why 
Hegel's  disciples  should  have  conceived  that  it  was  their  sacred 
mission  to  mutilate  their  master  so  as  to  leave  out  of  his  system 
the  one  principle  that  made  it  vital,  and  to  whittle  it  down  to  a 
bare  epistemology. 


APPENDIX  349 

Epistemology  —  a  metaphysic  based  on  the  sterile  abstract 
categories  of  the  Understanding  whose  utter  impotence  he  was 
never  tired  of  demonstrating.  One  can  only  suppose  that  the 
Triple  Dialectic  was  too  much  for  the  disciples,  and  that  they 
thought  they  were  simplifying  him. 

There  is,  however,  this  excuse  for  them,  that,  though  Hegel 
was  perfectly  clear  about  what  he  meant,  he  was  not  always  cau- 
tious about  what  he  said.  What  he  meant  —  and  said  so  often 
that  there  should  have  been  no  possible  doubt  as  to  his  meaning 
—  was  that  Spirit  is  the  prius,  and  that  Thought  is  only  part  (an 
important  part,  but  still  only  part)  of  the  whole  gorgeous,  con- 
crete, and  abundant  life  of  Spirit.  But  being  a  poet  with  an  im- 
agination, as  well  as  a  philosopher  with  a  system,  he  also  said  that 
Thought  was  the  diamond-net  in  which  the  universe  is  hung ;  and 
all  his  opponents  and  his  followers  took  this  saying  literally. 

Literally,  and  yet  not  literally  enough.  For  the  net  is  surely 
not  the  thing  it  snares.  However,  as  Thought  was  a  thing 
both  critics  and  followers  were  fairly  familiar  with,  and  Spirit 
presumably  was  not,  wherever  and  whenever  afterwards  Hegel 
spoke  to  them  of  Spirit,  they  refused  to  listen  to  him.  Had 
he  not  said  at  the  end  of  the  third  fat  volume  of  his  Logic 
that  the  Idea,  the  Transcendental  Idea,  was  the  Whole?  Had 
he  not  said  that  Thought  was  the  Ding-an-sich? 

What  he  did  say,  criticizing  Kant,  was  that  the  Thing-in- 
Itself  is  what  the  Absolute  is,  of  which  ''  nothing  is  known  but 
that  everything  is  one  in  it."  (Logik,  Book  I.  p.  121.  Berlin, 
1841.)  He  defined  it,  with  ferocious  asperity,  as  a  "  dead-head," 
the  "  utterly  abstract  and  entirely  empty,  only  definable  as  the 
Beyond,  the  negative  of  idea  and  feeling  and  of  definite  think- 
ing." He  said  it  was  surprising  "  how  often  we  are  told  that 
we  don't  know  what  the  Thing-in-Itself  is,"  and  added  sar- 
castically that  "  nothing  was  easier  than  to  know  it."  (En- 
cyclopddie,  p.  67.)  He  said  that  "  the  Logic  was  the  setting 
forth  of  what  the  Thing-in-Itself  in  truth  is,  of  what  is  truly 
in  it " ;  and  that  "  by  '  In-Itself '  something  better  than  an  ab- 
straction is  to  be  understood,  namely,  what  something  is  in  its 
concept,"  the  concept  being  a  very  concrete  and  definite  af- 
fair. (Logik,  p.  121.)  And  he  certainly  did  say  that  the 
Transcendental  Idea  was  the  Whole,  meaning  the  logical  Whole 
that  he  was  dealing  with  in  the  three  fat  volumes.  Then  he 
paused  to  take  breath  before  letting  his  system  rip  in  the  vaster 
Dialectic  of  the  Spirit.  That  pause  was  fatal  to  him.  For 
whatever  he  might  say  afterwards  nobody  attended  to  him.  His 
followers  had  got  their  catchword!  "Thought  is  the  Ding-an- 
sich." 


350  A  DEFENCE  OF  IDEALISM 

Yet  it  should  be  clear  to  every  unprejudiced  reader  of  the 
Encyclopddie  and  the  Phdnomenologie  that  Spirit  and  not 
Thought  is  the  all-embracing  term;  the  beginning  and  end  of 
Being  and  Becoming;  the  through-all  and  in-all;  the  only  prin- 
ciple that  can  be  first  in  thought  and  first  also  in  existence. 
The  whole  course  of  the  Triple  Dialectic  depends  on  it.  And 
he  is  explicit  enough : 

"  The  absolute  Idea  alone  is  Being,  imperishable  life,  truth 
that  knows  itself,  and  it  is  all  truth  " —  as  far  as  thought  goes. 
{Logih,  Book  III.  p.  318.) 

But  Spirit  is  "  that  which  is  the  truth  and  the  end  of  Nature, 
and  the  true  Reality  of  the  Ideal."     {Encyclopddie,  p.  211.) 

For  the  "  Logic  "  "  this  Idea  is  as  yet  logical ;  it  is  shut  within 
pure  thought ;  it  is  the  Knowledge  only  of  the  divine  idea.  The 
systematic  carrying-out  of  it  is  itself  realization  —  but  con- 
tained within  this  sphere"  (p.  342). 

"  At  every  stage  of  its  wider  determination  it  upheaves  the 
whole  mass  of  its  foregoing  content;  and  through  its  dialectic 
process  it  not  only  leaves  nothing  behind,  but  it  carries  with  it 
all  that  it  has  won,  it  enriches  and  thickens  itself  in  itself." 

"  Every  stage  of  the  outgoing,  of  wider  determination,  is  an 
ingoing;  the  greater  the  extension  the  higher  the  intensity. 
Therefore,  what  is  richest  is  also  the  most  concrete  and  the  most 
subjective;  the  mightiest  and  that  which  has  the  biggest  stretch 
is  that  which  finds  itself  again  in  the  depth  of  simplicity.  The 
highest,  the  sharpest  point  is  pure  Personality."  {Logik,  Book 
I.  pp.  60,  61.) 

It  is  the  Absolute  Spirit  which  at  the  end  of  the  process  is 
known  "  as  the  concrete  and  the  last  highest  truth  of  all 
Being." 

"  The  essential  thing  for  knowledge  is  not  so  much  that  it 
should  begin  (as  the  Logic  begins)  with  the  purely  immediate, 
but  that  its  whole  of  knowledge  should  be  a  circle  returning  into 
itself,  in  which  the  First  is  also  the  Last,  and  the  Last  is  also 
the  First."     (Logik,  Book  I.  pp.  60,  61.) 

39.  Mr.  E.  B.  Holt's  argument,  even  if  psycho-physieally 
sound,  cuts  both  ways. 

"  And  now  I  can  reply  to  the  anti-realist's  question :  How 
can  realism  pretend  to  assert  the  reality  of  the  odour,  sound,  and 
so  forth  which  are  vividly  present  in  the  dreams  of  a  person 
sleeping,  it  may  be,  in  a  box  no  bigger  than  his  coffin  ?  Realism, 
I  say,  can  assert  this  because  the  nervous  system,  even  when 
unstimulated  from  without,  is  able  to  generate  within  itself 


APPENDIX  351 

nerve-currents  of  those  frequencies  whose  density  factor  is  the 
same  as  in  ordinary  peripheral  stimulation."  {The  New  Real- 
ism, p.  352.) 

The  anti-realist  may  agree  that  he  gets  nerve-stimulation  in 
either  case,  just  as  he  agrees  that  hallucinations  can  be  dis- 
tinguished from  "  external  realities  "  by  their  contexts.  (For 
the  matter  of  that  a  hallucination  may  appear  as  externalized 
in  public  space.)  I  do  not  see  why  he  should  be  represented 
as  worrying  about  "  the  box  no  bigger  than  his  coffin,"  since  a 
box  no  bigger  than  his  head  contrives  to  house  the  nerve-centres 
that  are  implicated.  His  question  is :  What  kind  of  reality,  or 
of  appearance,  is  to  be  ascribed  to  the  objects  of  sense-percep- 
tion? His  anti-ness  would  declare  itself  rather  in  contending 
that  if  you  will  ascribe  absolute  outside  reality  to  all  spaces  and 
to  all  times  and  to  all  objects  in  space  and  time,  then,  when 
you've  proved  that  your  nervous  system  is  able  "  to  generate 
within  itself  nerve-currents  of  those  frequencies  whose  density 
factor  is  the  same  as  in  ordinary  peripheral  stimulation"  it  is, 
to  say  the  least  of  it,  a  little  odd  that  your  motor  experiences  in 
dream  space  are  so  very  far  from  being  "  the  same  "  as  your 
motor  experiences   in  "  ordinary "  space. 

The  realist  argues  as  if  the  nerve-currents  had  everything  to 
do  with  the  "  reality  "  of  dream-experiences  and  hallucinations. 
Very  well,  then.  Establish  the  same  conditions  of  "  frequency," 
"  density  factor,"  and  the  rest  of  it,  and  what  you  ought  to  ex- 
pect from  your  dream  is  a  sober  expedition  in  a  space  con- 
formed in  every  way  to  ordinary  space,  and  the  sober  spectacle 
of  objects  behaving  in  an  ordinary  spatial  manner,  and  not  ex- 
peditions and  spectacles  so  far  from  ordinary  as  to  presuppose 
a  dream-space  and  a  dream-time  and  a  dream-behaviour  that 
do  not  conform  at  all. 


THE  NEW  MYSTICISM 
Pages  240-289 

40.  Jane  Harrison,  Protegomena  to  Greeh  Religion,  pp.  9  et 
seq.,  32-76,  163  et  seq.;  also  p.  64.     Themis,  pp.  270,  275. 

Sir  James  G.  Frazer,  The  Belief  in  Human  Immortality,  pp. 
201,  226,  239,  247,  259,  288,  289,  348,  367  et  seq.;  also  pp.  346, 
371.  380.     Adonis,  Attis,  Osiris,  pp.  45  et  seq.,  219  et  seq. 

41.  Jane  Harrison,  Protegomena,  pp.  21,  327  et  seq.  Themis, 
p.  261  et  seq. 

42.  Buddhist  Suttas,  translated  by  Professor  Ehys  Davids. 


352  A  DEFENCE  OF  IDEALISM 

Akankheya-Sutta,    pp.    14,    15.     (Sacred   Boohs    of   the   East, 
edited  by  Professor  Max  Miiller.) 

43.  Jung,  Psychology  of  the  Unconscious,  pp.  100  et  seq., 
260.     (Translated  by  Beatrice  M.  Hinkle,  M.D.,  New  York.) 

Pierre  Janet,  L'Automatisme  psychologique.  Etat  mental 
des  hysteriques,  vol.  ii.  Les  accidents  mentaux.  The  Major 
Symptoms  of  Hysteria. 

Anna  Eobeson  Burr,  Religious  Confessions  and  Confessants, 
pp.  194-284. 

44.  Life  of  St.  Teresa,  Written  hy  Herself,  ch.  xx.  xxix. 

45.  Life  of  St.  Catherine  of  Genoa,  by  Baron  von  Hiitten, 

46.  St.  John  of  the  Cross,  The  Dark  Night  of  the  Soul 
(translation  by  Gabriela  Cunningham  Grahame),  pp.  235-237. 

47.  St.  John  of  the  Cross,  The  Dark  Night,  pp.  47-55,  100, 
116,  120. 

48.  Anna  Robeson  Burr,  Religious  Confessions,  p.  357. 

49.  Life  of  St.  Teresa,  eh.  xxv. 

50.  Interpretation  of  Dreams;  On  Dreams. 

51.  Journal  of  the  Society  for  Psychical  Research,  May,  June, 
and  July  1916 ;  and  January  1917. 

52.  See  infra,  ''  Conclusions,"  pp.  335,  336,  337. 

53.  The  Upanishads,  translated  by  Max  Miiller.  Part  I. 
(Sacred  Books  of  the  East,  vol.  i.) 

54.  "  It  is  right  ...  to  state  here  that  Oriental  Mysticism 
insists  upon  a  further  stage  beyond  that  of  union,  which  stage  it 
regards  as  the  real  goal  of  the  spiritual  life.  This  is  the  total 
annihilation  or  reabsorption  of  the  individual  soul  in  the  In- 
finite."    (Mysticism,  p.  207.) 

"  The  tendency  of  Indian  mysticism  to  regard  the  Unitive  Life 
wholly  in  its  passive  aspect,  as  a  total  self-annihilation,  a  disap- 
pearance into  the  substance  of  the  Godhead,  results,  I  believe, 
from  ...  a  one-sided  distortion  of  truth.     The  Oriental  mystio 

*  presses  on  to  lose  his  life  upon  the  heights ' ;  but  he  does  not 
come  back  from  the  grave  and  bring  to  his  fellow-men  the  life- 
giving  news  that  he  has  transcended  mortality  in  the  interests  of 
the  race.  The  temperamental  bias  of  Western  mystics  towards 
activity  has  saved  them  from  such  a  one-sided  achievement  as 
this;  and  hence  it  is  in  them  that  the  Unitive  Life,  with  its 

*  dual  character  of  activity  and  rest,'  has  assumed  its  richest 
and  its  noblest  forms."     (Ibid.  p.  520.) 

"  In  the  East  .  .  .  the  contemplative  and  world-renouncing 
quest  of  the  Absolute  .  .  .  which  developed  under  the  influence 
of  Hindu  philosophy,  has  been  from  the  first  divorced  from  the 


APPENDIX  353 

warmly  vital  and  more  truly  mystic,  outgoing  and  fruitful, 
world-renewing  attitude  of  Love.  .  .  . 

"...  The  search  for  transcendence,  as  we  see  it  in  orthodox 
Hinduism  and  Buddhism,  represents  in  its  general  tendency, 
not  a  movement  of  expansion,  not  the  generous  industry  of  in- 
satiable love;  but  a  movement  of  withdrawal,  the  cultivation  of 
an  exquisite  and  aristocratic  despair.  Inspired  by  the  intellect 
rather  than  by  the  heart,  the  whole  mystical  philosophy  of  the 
Hindus  has  as  its  presupposition  a  strong  feeling  of  the  transi- 
toriness  and  unreality  of  existence."  {The  Mystic  Way,  pp.  21, 
22.) 

In  the  case  of  Siifi-ism,  Miss  Underbill  admits  that  the  inter- 
pretations of  European  students  may  be  incorrect,  and  that  Al 
Ghazzali's  description  of  the  Sufi's  Eighth  Stage  of  Progress 
"  is  certainly  more  applicable  to  the  Unitive  Life  as  understood 
by  Christian  contemplatives  than  to  the  Buddhistic  annihilation 
of  personality."     {Mysticism,  p.  207.) 

It  would  not  be  fair  to  quote  Miss  Underbill  as  claiming,  in 
1913,  a  Christian  influence  for  the  mysticism  of  the  Vaish- 
navists  Eamanuja  and  Eamananda  (see  The  Mystic  Way,  pp. 
23,  24,  25),  since  in  1914  she  has  admitted  very  handsomely  that 
"  this  is  a  point  upon  which  competent  authorities  hold  widely 
divergent  views."  (Introduction  to  One  Hundred  Poems  of 
Kahir.)  But  I  hope  she  will  forgive  me  if  I  take  a  mean  ad- 
vantage of  her  footnote  referring  to  Vaishnavism. 

"  The  fact  that  this  movement,  on  its  lower  and  popular  side, 
gave  support  to  the  most  erotic  and  least  desirable  aspects  of  the 
Krishna  cult,  ought  not  to  prejudice  our  judgment  of  its  higher 
and  purer  aspect.  The  wholesale  condemnation  of  a  faith  on 
account  of  its  worst  by-products  is  a  dangerous  principle  for 
Christian  critics."     {The  Mystic  Way,  p.  23.) 

It  is,  of  course,  a  dangerous  principle  for  anybody,  as  it  cuts 
pretty  badly  both  ways.  All  the  same,  the  sticklers  for  the 
"  Influence  "  are  in  a  dilemma.  Either  Christianity  really  had 
nothing  to  do  with  the  Humanist  forms  of  Eastern  mysticism, 
or  it  was  responsible  for  their  lowest  and  impurest  aspect. 

Perhaps  the  less  said  about  eroticism  the  better. 

55.  "  Dance,  my  heart !  dance  to-day  with  joy. 

"  The  strains  of  love  fill  the  days  and  the  nights  with  music, 
and  the  world  is  listening  to  the  melodies : 

"  Mad  with  joy,  life,  and  death,  dance  to  the  rhythm  of  this 
music.  The  hills  and  the  sea  and  the  earth  dance.  The  world 
of  man  dances  in  laughter  and  tears."  (The  Thirty-Second 
Poem  of  Kabir.) 


354  A  DEFEISTCE  OF  IDEALISM 

56.  "  To  amuse  and  to  delight  Gertrude  of  Eisleben,  He  sang 
duets  with  her  '  in  a  tender  and  harmonious  voice.'  The  same 
saint  writes  of  their  '  incredible  intimacy ' ;  and  here,  as  in  later 
passages  of  Angela  da  Foligno,  the  reader  is  revolted  by  their 
sensuality."  (Anna  Kobeson  Burr,  Religious  Confessions  and 
Confessants,  p.  357.) 

57.  Psychology  of  the  Unconscious,  pp.  97,  98. 

58.  Ihid.  pp.  130,  132. 


CONCLUSIONS 
Pages  290-339 

59.  Sir  James  G.  Frazer,  The  Belief  in  Human  Immortality, 
pp.  470,  471. 

60.  lUd.,  pp.  371,  380. 

61.  Ihid.,  loc.  cit.  See  also  Jane  Harrison  on  "  The  Hero  as 
Snake  "  and  "  The  Snake  as  Well  and  Tree-Daimon,"  Themis, 
pp.  261  et  seq.,  and  pp.  430,  431,  432. 

62.  Sahhdsava-Sutta  (Sacred  Boohs  of  the  East,  vol.  xi. ;  The 
Buddhist  Suttas,  translated  by  Professor  Rhys  Davids). 

In  Professor  Rhys  Davids'  translation  the  last  sentence  runs: 
"...  this  soul  of  mine  is  permanent,  lasting,  eternal,  has  the 
inherent  quality  of  never  changing,  and  will  continue  for  ever 
and  ever." 

I  do  not  offer  the  phrase  "  Deadly  Things  "  as  a  rendering  of 
"Asayas."  But  it  may  pass  as  a  picturesque  and  disorderly 
substitute.  The  Pali  word  appears  to  have  no  exact  moral 
equivalent.     Professor  Rhys  Davids  says: 

"I  am  unable  to  suggest  any  good  translation  of  the  term 
itself  —  simple  though  it  is.  It  means  literally  *  a  running  or 
flowing'  (thence),  a  leak;  but  as  that  figure  is  not  used  in 
English  in  a  spiritual  sense,  it  is  necessary  to  choose  some  other 
figure,  and  it  is  not  easy  to  find  one  that  is  appropriate.  '  Sin ' 
would  be  very  misleading,  the  Christian  idea  of  sin  being  incon- 
sistent with  Buddhist  Ethics.  A  '  fault '  in  the  geological  use 
of  the  word  comes  somewhat  nearer.  '  Imperfection '  is  too 
long,  and  for  '  stain  '  the  Pali  has  a  different  word.  In  the  Book 
of  the  Great  Decease  I  have  chosen  *  evil ' ;  here  I  leave  the  word 
untranslated."     (Introduction.) 

May  I  suggest  that,  though  the  original  figure  "running  or 
flowing  "  has  no  "  spiritual "  sense  in  English,  it  has  in  various 
languages  of  philosophy  a  metaphysical  sense,  which  is  of  the 
first  importance  in  this  highly  metaphysical  Sutta?    We  have 


APPENDIX  355 

"  the  flux  of  things,"  the  "  stream  of  consciousness,"  so  why  not 
"  The  Book  of  All  the  Life-Streams  "  ? 

63.  See  Bergson,  Matiere  et  Memoire,  p.  231. 

"  En  realite  il  n'y  a  pas  un  rythme  unique  de  la  duree,  on  peut 
imaginer  bien  des  rhythmes  differents,  qui,  plus  lent  ou  plus 
rapides,  mesureraient  le  degre  de  tension  ou  de  relachement  des 
consciences,  et,  par  la,  fixeraient  leurs  places  respectives  dans  la 
serie  des  etres." 


THE  END 


FEINTED  IN  THE  UNITED  STATES  OF  AUESICA 


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